#long post btw just so you are warned

[wildstar25]

Since im now reminded of the au I did almost finish writing this big thing for it but its not done, im not going back to it, and its not proof read. here.

In a world where the G tribe could not secure passage to Sharlaya for G'raha before the Imperial Army came knocking at their door for conscripts; and where Arsay's parents take her on their adventures through Orthard, only to find themselves in Doma just as Garlemald invades. Both get taken to be raised in the barracks. After all, what better way is there to reduce the chance of a revolt, than to mold the impressionable minds of the newly conquered in favor of the Empire?

They are the best of friends, G'raha and Arsay. Two peas in a pod. G’raha dreamed of becoming a Legatus. He wanted to be the respected commander who saved the day and was recognized for his tactics and bravery. Arsay shared his dream, she would happily be his right hand man. The first one G’raha would call for, the person he could always rely on. Until one day where G'raha is re-assigned to a base in Mor Dhona; a desperate attempt to maintain a foothold in the area after the destruction of the praetorium. He promised to keep in as much contact with Arsay as he can. She held him to that promise.

As he got closer to Syrcus Tower, G'raha's mind was flooded with knowledge and memories of eras long past. A strange force pulled him towards the looming spire in the distance. He recalled something his father once told him before Garlean forces raided their home. Something about his eye and his bloodline. G'raha Tia left camp in the dead of night, his curiosity guiding him.

It is wandering near Revenant's Toll that G'raha found himself in the company of the Scions of the seventh dawn. The terrible liar that he was, there was little point in hiding his identity or intentions. Luckily, they were sympathetic to his plight and escorted him to the study camp. He involved himself in the investigation, got inspired by the one they call "the champion of Eorzea", and was about to choose to seal himself in the tower as a way for atoning for all the harm he had done as an imperial soldier. The thought of breaking his promise to a dear childhood friend, however, stopped him. He couldn't very well write to her, as he was now a defected agent; but he also couldn't live with himself knowing she was missing out on such a wondrous life outside of the empire. That everything they've been taught to think has been baseless propaganda.

He instead petitioned the hero for an entry into the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. They accepted him with open arms. Never having trained in magic, G'raha obtained a fragment of crystal from the tower. With Allagan royal blood now awakened in him, the shard would act as a conduit to channel powers he once shunned. During the events of the bloody banquet, the WoL did not make it out of the tunnel. They sacrificed themselves to push G'raha out of the way of some falling debris. Thus, G'raha Tia takes on the responsibility of the WoL, even going so far as to manifest the echo. He learned what it is to be a Dark Knight in Ishgard. He put an end to the Dragonsong War, defeated the Griffin, lost another friend and mentor, and resolved himself to aid in the liberation of Ala Mihgo.

On the border between the Black Shroud and The Fringes, the two reunited at long last. It does not go nearly as well as G'raha imagined it would.

Arsay greeted him with an ambush; calling him a traitor from the tree tops before she lunged at him with her katana. G'raha grabbed a hold of his blade just in time to stop the blow. When he realized who it was in front of him, G'raha lit up with naïve excitement. "I can't believe it," he exclaimed, "Arsay! Arsay, it's really you!" Arsay snarled at him before she launched herself backwards with a flip, "Oh, so now you remember me? How convenient!" With a growl, she sprinted towards G'raha once more and swung at him furiously. G'raha desperately blocked each attack as he begged her to stop, but Arsay would not listen.

---

It was a month after G'raha's departure to Eorzea. Arsay had gotten fed up with the lack of communication and reached out to the unit he'd been transferred to. The news that her only friend, the person she planned her life with, was a deserter crushed her. She couldn't help but feel utterly betrayed. The one person she felt like she could trust had made a fool of her. He abandoned her the first moment he could; was he ever even really her friend to begin with?

News of a red-haired Miqo'te defeating The Legatus of the VIth Imperial Legion spread and eventually found its way to Arsay's ears. She was consumed by rage. It was one thing to up and disappear; it was something else entirely for G'raha to have made himself an enemy of Garlemald. To shove it in her face that he left and made himself a new life, all without her. She made it her mission to one day track him down and make him pay for this hurt he had inflicted on her. In order to gain such freedom, she would need to be more than a foot soldier. Thus Arsay worked twice as hard, became ruthless on the field and in training. Whispers of her vindictive behaviour spread through the chain of command. Her blood lust peaked the interest of a certain Legatus, "It would seem we are after the same prey... A contest, then, of who is the better hunter." With a simple nod of her head, Arsay was granted the power she dreamed of. The next day she made for Baelsar's wall.

---

No matter what words G'raha said, Arsay continued to slash. Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal. A moment of hesitation from G'raha gave Arsay the opening she needed. She drew her blade back in one smooth motion in preparation. Her ears twitched. Arsay leaned back to narrowly avoid the fist flying at her. Arsay clicked her teeth and flipped backwards. Lyse clumsily adjusted herself to regain her footing beside G'raha. The other Scions too ran to gather around him. Each drew their arms and readied their spells.

"So these are my replacements," Arsay hissed, "what a pathetic lot." She lifted her arm to point her blade at G'raha. "To think you've become so cowardly, Raha. Hiding behind your new 'friends' won't help you. I've fought larger foes without breaking a sweat." 

" 'Raha'?" Lyse frowned, "G'raha, do you know her?" G'raha nodded. The seeker opened his mouth to reply before Arsay cut him off,

"HA! I should have guessed; never even bothered to mention me once, did you? Of course not. Why would you? I obviously wasn't important to you."

Despite the smirk on her face, Arsay's anger was clearly visible through the ferocity in which her tail whipped back and forth. She took a moment to scan the group. For a moment G'raha swore he saw sadness behind her piercing red glare. He thought perhaps this was his chance to break through to her.

"Arsay, you don't understand. I-" "Oh, I understand everything, Raha. You saw the chance to escape and took it. Got yourself a new life; a new eye too. You're even taking the chance to relive your childhood. I heard you're having lots of fun playing 'Hero', hah. … Y'know, I suppose I should be a little flattered by just how many toys you had to find to replace me." With that, Arsay sheathed her sword and leapt into the air, landing on a nearby branch. She called down to her former friend, her voice echoing through the forest.

"Enjoy your little fantasy while you can, Raha. Soon enough it'll end with my blade at your throat."

She jumped upwards once more to grab hold of a magitek drone above the treetops. The machine whirred as it flew Arsay towards Castellum Velodyna. G'raha yelled out to her as loud as he could, desperate to chase after her. The scions held him back, demanding an explanation. "She's my friend," he told them. "At least, she used to be..."

The scions continued their journey into Gyr Abania. G'raha learned Arsay isn't the only Garlean hunting him down. Their party split after tragedy struck Rhalger's Reach; the remaining and un-injured scions head east by sea in search of aid. At the ruby sea, G'raha bore witness to Arsay aiding in Yostuyu's rain of terror on the fishing village. He took notice of how she hesitated oh so slightly before carrying out the brutality requested of the acting viceroy. When the scions interfered in the display, Arsay took no time at all for her to trade blows with G'raha. He tells her she's gone too far, she retorts that he's just grown too soft. She and Yostuyu flee when they find themselves out matched by the confederacy's arrival.

After G'raha won the title of Khagan, Arsay appeared again. This time with a sloth of magitek weapons, enough to keep all of "Raha's friends" occupied. The two fought once more, both bosting new skills and tactics. G'raha attempted to appeal to the Arsay he knew all those years ago. To prove to her he never forgot their time together. Unable to see past her resentment, Arsay refused to acknowledge his words. A yard away, Sadu blew up some Magitek Armor which sent heaps of metal cascading through the air. Noticing from the corner of his eye, G'raha dove at Arsay to shield her from an oncoming shard of flaming debris. They both crashed to the ground, Arsay pinned under G'raha in a daze. The two stared at each other wordlessly as the fight around them continued. Just as Arsay was about to move, G'raha wrapped his arms around her in a hug.

"Please, Arsay, you can stop all this! We can go back to how things were, we can be friends again! I miss our time together more than anything else!" G'raha buried his face into the crook of her neck. Arsay's eyes widened. Slowly, she made movements to hug him back. "So... you'd come back with me?" A cautious optimism carried through her tone. Her hands rested gently on G'raha's arm. The way his muscles tensed at the mere suggestion told her everything. "I... Arsay, I can't, but- Ahg!!" Arsay dug her nails into his bare skin and dragged them down his arm in one swift movement. G'raha recoiled at the scratch which gave Arsay enough room to move. She delivered a forceful kick to his chest which knocked him back. Arsay scrambled to her feet as G'raha feebly attempted to catch his breath. "You will not fool me again. I won’t let you" She snarled. 

The tide of the battle had changed; the many clans of the step rained victorious against the mechanical weapons of Garlemald, and G’raha’s friends were quick to rush to his aid. Arsay lingered, looking on as Hien helped G’raha to his feet. There was a longing in her expression. G’raha clutched his side with one hand and reached out to Arsay with the other. Any attempt to call out to her came out as labored wheezing. Arsay walked backwards a few paces before she turned tail and ran as fast as she could. When G’raha finally caught his breath, all that remained of her was her katana, abandoned in the grass of the Azim Steppe. 

Hien was brought back to the people of Doma. His presence alone was enough to ignite enthusiasm throughout the House of Fierce. G’raha wished he could share an ounce of their excitement. Instead, he sat at an empty table, gloom hung over him like a cloud. In his hand was Arsay’s forgotten weapon. G’raha took notice of how pristine of a condition it was in; the blade had been recently sharpened, the metal polished to a perfect shine, and the cord wrapping had not a single stain. Were it not for the familiar scratches on the hand guard, we would almost believe it to be brand new. G’raha still remembered the day Arsay received the sword. They had finally graduated from training onto a real unit and were outfitted with their gear. Arsay had been given a sword that was comically large for her stature. Dumbfounded, Arsay requested a more suitable weapon. The Decanus did not appreciate the lip, calling her request “ridiculous” and “typical laziness suited to a non-garlean”. Their unit was punished for her “outburst” by way of forfeiting their meal privileges for the day. Arsay hung her head low, doing her best to avoid the seering gazes of her fellow soldiers. It was later on that G’raha approached her for a trade. The katana he had was issued for Arsay’s odachi. Arsay protested at first, the odachi was a bit too big for G’raha as well. G’raha assured her he’d grow into it eventually. He also insisted It was more important that they look after each other, since they were all the other person had. 

All the fondness he felt for that memory was now replaced with guilt. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was responsible for how things turned out. It was obvious they still cared for each other; the way Arsay treasured this sword G’raha gave her was proof enough. What he couldn’t understand is why she still clung to the Empire. If only he could show her how much better it was on the other side. Countless potential arguments ran through his head. Surely he’d come up with something that could convince her. His thoughts were cut short, as it didn’t take long for Alphinaud to approach him with a task. G’raha did his best to hide the turmoil in his heart and accepted the job with a smile. He was going to make things right between himself and Arsay, but the goal of liberating Doma could not become an afterthought. 

After all the preparations had been made, the time for action was upon them. The siege on Doma Castle was a difficult endeavor to say the least. Countless magitek automatons and Garlean forces barred their path, but G’raha, along with Hien, Gosetsu, and Yugiri, broke through every obstacle. They ran down the scarlet halls as fast as they could, all acutely aware of the impending collapse of the foundation. The midday sun shone through from the eastern windows, the gilded accents and marble floors shone brilliantly. It was no wonder why Hien’s plan to flood the Castle had shocked so many; this place was a marvel to behold. As the kingdom's prince said in his rallying address, however, Doma was a people above all. They would not beholden to any one building, no matter how great. Unable to sleep the evening prior, G’raha reflected on that sentiment for a time. He wondered if his friendship with Arsay could be  like that. If it too could live beyond its ties to the past. If G’raha could wash away the years of pain and anger, could he and Arsay build something new - something better- together? He would soon find out the answer to his question. 

The team stopped in their tracks at the Halls of The Scarlet Swallow as a figure cast in shadow approached them from down the hall. The scrapping of a blade’s edge against the floor pierced G’raha’s ears. 

“Hey Raha.” 

A cold voice echoed throughout the caverness room. G’raha narrowed his eyes. 

“Arsay.” 

He had hoped she wouldn’t be here, of all places. Arsay emerged from the shadows wielding a silver gunblade unlike he’d ever seen before. This would not be good. G’raha turned back to Hien and the others. All it took was a nod for them to understand how to proceed. The three rushed forward. As expected, Arsay let the Domans past her without so much of a bat of the eye. With a burst of aether, Arsay launched into the air and aimed herself  towards her true target, G’raha, his sword at the ready. Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal. G’raha grit his teeth, using all his might to stop his legs from buckling under the force of her attack. He knew Arsay to be strong, but not this strong. He noticed her finger squeeze back the trigger of the gun mechanism, the cartridges spun with a faint blue glow. Reflexively, G’raha shifted his weight to change the angle of his great sword. BANG! A bright flash of heat flew past G’raha’s head leaving the tips of his hair singed. He felt the hot hair on the back of his neck as the shot hit the wall behind him with a loud boom. G’raha looked over to see a huge mark in the wall, about the size of a moogle. The stunning red paint around the impact zone was now covered in black soot. Had she honestly tried to kill him just now? He turned to look at Arsay, who had been sent back from the force of her own blast, in shock. The hateful glare on her face twisted into a grin. 

“What’s the matter, Raha? I thought you’d be used to seeing aether manipulation by now.” She taunted. G’raha’s suspicions had been confirmed, that the bullet was more than just Ceruleum and blast powder. Arsay swung the gunblade around with a chuckle. “Pretty cool, right? It’s okay to be jealous, not every day you get to see the newest magitek hot off the workbench. Leagues better than that dingy old katana. Honestly, I should have ditched that thing years ago.” 

“We both know you don’t mean that.” G’raha frowned, cutting right through Arsay’s posturing. He saw her tail twitch in annoyance. She adjusted her grip on the blade and fired off another shot mid swing. The charge flew clear over G’raha’s shoulder into a decorative pillar. His ears folded back instinctively at the loud impact. Arsay curled her upper lip in a growl. 

“No, you don’t. You know nothing about me!” She pressed down on the balls of her feet and rushed towards G’raha. The Keeper swung her blade but G’raha pivoted in time to dodge. Arsay twisted to face her gun’s barrel at the Seeker, finger already squeezing the trigger. G’raha recognized the delay between her pressing the trigger and the shot firing - time needed for the prototype’s mechanism to activate, he hypothesized- and used that moment to knock her blade upwards with his own. Dust from the ceiling danced in the air, making its way down. At the same instance, the ground beneath their feet shook. G’raha furrowed his brow; he had to put an end to this, and soon. Arsay paid no mind to the rumbling, unaware of the revolutionary’s plans, she attributed it to her attack. She pulled back her arm to ready another swing. Meanwhile G’raha spun himself around, the tip of his sword aimed low in an attempt to catch Arsay’s feet. If he could incapacitate her, just for a moment, that would be enough to drag her out of here. The sound of G’raha’s sword etching the tile gave his attack away. Arsay jumped just in time to avoid the cutting edge and landed on the flat side of the blade. She used the surface like a spring board, and flung herself into the air. Caught off guard by the extra weight and force, G’raha lost his footing. He stumbled, almost tripping to the ground as Arsay spun over him. She shot her gun once more. The blast hit right in front of G’raha. The flash completely dazed him; all he saw was white, all he could hear was a high pitched ring. He felt a force coming towards him, but had no sense of direction. The blunt side of the prototype gunblade connected with G’raha’s side. He did his best to absorb the hit and regain composure. G’raha straightens himself out, keeping his head up though the world still spun around him. BAM! Another shot goes off. Then, just as suddenly, Arsay’s feet hit him square in the chest. She had used the recoil to strengthen the power of her kick. It was enough to send G’raha down to the ground with a thud. He gasped, breathless from the fall. A weight on his chest prevented him from taking a full lung of air.

His vision began to clear; on top him was Arsay, her knees on either side of his torso which kept him locked in place. She stared at him with cold eyes, waiting for him to regain his senses. She raised her arm, her gunblade pointed heavensward. The weapon which she had been wielding so effortlessly now looked heavy in her hand. Her finger pulled down on the trigger, the mechanism whirred. The glow it had emitted before was barely visible. G’raha winced at the flash, a second later the contents of the ceiling rained down on them. Flecks of gold paint sparkled as they were caught by the sunlight.From G’raha’s perspective, it appeared as if Arsay was floating above him surrounded by stars. As he cursed himself for even daring to think of such poetic imagery at a time like this, the ground once more shook. 

“Arsay…” G’raha coughed out. He had to warn her before it was too late. The feeling of a sharp edge digging into his neck stopped him. 

“I told you your game of “Hero” would end with my blade.” Arsay hissed out. Her chest heaved with every breath she took. She looked exhausted, much more tired than she should be. G’raha wracked his brain for an explanation. His mind went straight for the gunblade, how every shot seemed less and less potent. Was it possible they designed it to consume unsustainable amounts of aether? That would be absurd! It would take only a few shots each for the empire’s frontlines to find themselves completely depleted of energy and at the mercy of their opponents weapons. Though he supposed, if those few shots were able to wipe out full units of alliance soldiers, and their frontlines were composed of a majority of those without pure garlean heritage…. G’raha clicked his teeth. They would be that cruel, he concluded.

“Arsay,” G’raha locked eyes with her, “whatever the Empire has promised you, It’s not worth your life. You have to see that! Their ideals are faulty, their method of creating peace hypocritical. No matter how much you do, how many ranks you move up, you’ll never be more than a tool to them! I do know you, Arsay. I know you have a big heart. So, please, before we run out of time, find that part inside of you that wants to put an end to all the pain and suffering Garlean rule has inflicted on this land!” 

G’raha hoped with all his heart that he would finally get through to her. His eyes darted back and forth, trying to catch any change in expression. Arsay sat silently, she closed her eyes and her ears turned back. Her tail swatted from side to side as her lips cracked into a smile. A small chuckle escaped her nose before she tilted her head back into a full cackle. G’raha watched, completely vexed by her reaction.The laughing stopped. Like a marionette whose stringers were cut, Arsay’s head dropped forward. Shadows casted over her face, occluding every detail. Something fell from her face, catching the light with a glint. G’raha’s breath caught as he felt the sting of cold steel sink into his skin, drawing blood. 

“... You think I give a damn about the stupid Empire!? That I would care enough to throw my life away for them!?” Arsay’s neck snapped up as she snarled at him. Tears filled her eyes and overflowed over her cheeks. “The only thing I ever wanted to be important to someone, anyone! I thought I was important to you… you were the only one who ever treated me with respect, who made me feel like I could be something more; but, it was all an act! You didn’t care! It didn’t even take a week for you to forget about me… you didn’t even try to send word to me!” With her free hand, she pounded her fist into the ground beside G’raha head. “I would have left for you, y’know- If you had asked- but you didn’t want me; you had already replaced me like I was nothing! Because that’s all I ever was to you: A nobody. A character from one of your fairytale books. The one who’s just there to make the hero feel special, designed to be forgotten the moment you turn the page. Abandoned by the narrative.” Arsay’s posture dropped, crumbling under the weight of her own misery. “A tool for the Empire or a plaything to a boy acting out fantasies… What's the difference? At least this way I die making sure your story has a terrible ending.”  

G’raha didn’t know what hurt more, the bitterness in Arsay’s voice or the way the gunblade shook against his flesh. He swallowed. “If you really wanted to kill me, you would have done it already.” Slowly he moved his hand and grabbed the sharp side of the blade. The leather of his gloves protected his palm as tried to push it away.

“Shut up!” Arsay pushed back. Beads of blood  began to pool from G’raha’s neck onto the steel’s surface. The sound of gunfire echoed in the distance. Followed by the cracking of rock, the splintering of wood. The castle began to crumble around them as the two remained in their stalemate on the ground.

“It’s true; you can’t bring yourself to do it. Deep down you know that’s not what you want. You know that everything you’ve been telling yourself isn’t real.” G’raha glanced up at the ceiling, the smallest cracks began to show in the corners.. Gritting his teeth, he pushed on the blade again. He could feel it  pushing through his glove. “ I won’t deny what I did to you was terrible. For that I apologize from the bottom of my heart. I am sorry, Arsay, well and truly sorry. I owe you a proper explanation for my actions, but we’ve not the time. Please, understand that It was never my intention to hurt you.” G’raha looked back at Arsay, tears stained her face and her eyes were red and weary. “I have always admired you, Arsay. Your tenacity, your strength, the way you will always say what’s on your mind regardless of who you are talking to, how you will do all within your power to achieve your goals. I dove head first into battle countless times knowing you would have done the same. Even though we were worlds apart, I would feel your presence in those moments and it would grant me immeasurable power. Never once had I given up on hoping I would one day see you again. I dreamed of the day I could take your hand and show you a  life outside of the Empire. I wanted to introduce you to my friends- for them to be your friends too! I wanted us to have a future together, just as we promised. One where we would ever be side by side doing everything imaginable to make the world a better place- though more cooperative means than that of the Garleans. A life that is more than fighting for our right to be seen as an equal. I want you to feel the freedom I’ve felt, to partake in the wonders I’ve experienced. I want to see it all again -as if it were the first time- with you!” 

—-

So as it turns out you cant just always go back to something you were writing months before and expect to remember what it was you were going to write. 

I think it was going to be like: 

Arsay is moved but she’s in too deep now. She doesn’t think shes good enough for anyone and definitely not graha. If he was the hero, she was the villain. She cant see herself past that role anymore. But god she is just so sad about it. She stops trying to slice g’rahas throat and just cries on him for a bit. He hugs her, maybe gives a little kiss on her poor little head. A comforting kiss not a romantic one. She needs it.

Then the castle starts shaking for real. The bombs went off and the place is collapsing. G’raha pulls them both off the ground and they start booking it to a window to jump out of. They can land in the water below and itll be fine. Garlemald will think arsay died in the building and she can start a new life once they emerge from the river. Happy ending is that they both jump and arsay redemption arsay begins from that point in stormblood through whatever the hell shadowbringer would be and cap off in endwalker. Bad end is G’raha feels at the last second that arsay let go. He turns as he falls to see her with a regretful smile and then the building crumbling with her in it. She later comes back in endwalker in zenos’s place and their big fight at the end of the universe resolves with them finally making up for real and also making out and the power of love saves all of creation. the end. 

wolgraha week 2023 - Day 6 : Au

GrahArsay AU in which they both end up being child soldiers in the the Garlean Empire's Army. Only to later in life find themselves on opposing sides.

[p1ctur3]

@octdl-lee

Random captive TDL au lore dump and some behind the scenes stuff since you asked so nicely :]

Dark in captivity

victim did use dark as a way to train and get the mercs and him used to the box

victim and agent (i would probably explore their dynamic in this au also, mitsi would haunt this narrative because yes)

some behind the scenes things

additional art

[hollis-art]

spiderman data. or interweb? idk i haven't actually figured out his name yet

his design is based on a Velvet Spider! i know very little about them, but i thought it suited him from what i learned :)

[thatonepikminperson]

Tomorrow bois, y'all get to see my oc's...

and like the essay I wrote about each one of them...

I'M NORMAL ABOUT THE LITTLE PEOPLE IN MY HEAD

[scatterpatter]

So I made a sketch comic- sort of a vent, I guess? Mainly about plurality, and feelings on a past abuser and the lingering trauma, all to a part who didn't experience the trauma for himself... But realized it could be quite triggering so heed the following warnings!

Mentions of trauma and abuse (nothing explicit), showing alters in distress from the trauma

Speaking to the abuser in second person, in a very personal context (ex. "You did this to me" language). This comic is not targeted towards any of my followers/mutuals/anyone who sees it, but if you are easily triggered or otherwise made uncomfortable by the very personal language usage, please skip and know this is not targeted towards you

Eye contact and unsettling eye imagery

Brief blood imagery and mentioning wanting to bring harm to an abuser

All under the cut, proceed with caution!

I want to make it clear: We are okay, I just wanted to express my personal feelings on dealing with one of my system's traumas.

And for legal reasons: I do not actually wish to harm anyone, and have no intentions to do so. I harbor malice, and went a bit harsh on the imagery/language used to depict my malice, but our system is safe and we don't intend to bring any harm to anyone, regardless of how they harmed us

... Also if you got this far, bonus doodle of how me and one of my alters is now unwinding, to bring the positive vibes back <3

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

oh my god what happened?? are you alright? do you need any help?

alright i will preface this by saying that physically, i am COMPLETELY FINE. please don't worry about me too much, i promise i'm physically okay and it's not that bad

the rest is under the cut not for length but in case people want to skip past it (warning for people being unpleasant)

so the short story is that someone i thought was an online friend suddenly sent me a pretty awful DM before blocking me. they said a lot of genuinely hurtful things which wasn't really good for my mental state since they preyed on a bunch of my insecurities, and i thought that i could trust this person. i'm doing better now thanks to my irl friends, but recovery is a process as usual. i'm not sure if you can really help apart from being emotional support, but your concern is appreciated nonetheless <3

[letsmcfreackingloseit]

I JUST SAW MATPAT IN THEATERS AND IT WAS AWESOME AND I'M SO HAPPY

[girls-and-honey]

Hiya honey girl!

How are you doing? ♥️

I feel gay today, and I don’t have anyone to vent to, so it’s gonna be you I’m afraid

I feel so gay, I spent half the day looking longingly in the distance, and *sighing* wishfully

Do you ever feel like that?

Last week I bought a red rose from a dude in the street and offered it to a beautiful lady singer in a bar, and even if I don’t particularly want to see her again, it still felt good to do something chivalrous and lesbiany you know?

I like living my life on my own, but some days I wish I could do those romantic things with somebody, like holding hands and cuddling, and walking along the river, and maybe kissing a little.

Even if I’m happy by myself, sometimes I still yearn for the day I’ll have my own lady to offer my roses to 🥺

inkaaaa hi hi <3

I'm doing pretty good, in drastic need of a weekend. almost there!

!!! gay vents are always welcome here! oh to look longingly into the distance whilst sighing wishfully...

do I ever feel like that YES absolutely in fact while pondering my response I did just that asjdfkl okay I might ramble in the tags but yeah completely relate to be happy with life on my own but sometimes wishing it wasn't just me yeah I'm definitely going to ramble in the tags

offering a beautiful lady a rose I'm 🥺🥺 sometimes you just have to indulge in chivalrous lesbiany actions this is unavoidable. manifesting this for you, I hope all your rose offering yearnings come true!

[tj-crochets]

Follow up question on this topic that is going to sound like a joke but it isn't: How do you tell when you are stressed enough that you need to stop what you are doing and go do something to de-stress if you don't have "oncoming allergy migraine symptoms" to warn you? Like, the silver lining of all my health issues is that they give very unignorable signs when I need something (I can't always interpret them correctly, but that's a different problem). My "uh oh better go take a five minute break and calm down" sign was high blood pressure, low (for me) heart rate, shakiness, and a feeling like I was about to burst into tears despite not feeling sad Yesterday, I got very, very stressed at work. I accidentally pushed right past the threshold that normally would have been my stop point, because I did not have the physical symptoms, until I realized I was so overstimulated I couldn't listen to music (a thing that has literally never happened to me before) So I have to re-learn how to tell when I am stressed. It's not the first time I've had to relearn a basic life skill when I got a health issue more under control, but I admit I'm kinda stumped on how to figure this one out

So on the plus side I apparently unexpectedly reached some threshold of stabilizing my mast cells and have had a few reactions with no migraine or nausea! I'm experiencing acute stress without having bad tachycardia or shaking or having a little bit of that whole "impending sense of doom!" On the minus side I seem to have gone back to hives????? I used to get hives from like 2015ish to like 2019ish, when I finally mostly got my allergies under control*, and then I mostly just stopped having hives. Like. At all. I might have contact dermatitis on like hands knees or elbows if I happened to touch pollen from the Mystery Plant I am allergic to** but I did not get the spontaneous hives on my joints all the time, and now I had one on my hip and I feel like my hand is trying to get one and maybe my knee????? This is definitely a huge step down in terms of severity, significantly less likely to have side effects that land me in the hospital, but I am so confused. Happy about it! Hope it lasts! But so confused. Also (and I do remember this from the few times I got hives once I started antihistamines), feeling a hive try to form while on high doses of antihistamines is so weird. I feel like if I get into too much detail it might squick y'all out but trust me it's a weird feeling. Each individual hive since I've been on daily antihistamines, with one notable exception, lasts less than an hour instead of 24+ hours. *read: four times the daily recommended dose of 24 hour antihistamines, as my allergist told me to do **was not able to narrow down what, exactly, it is, but it was seasonally limited and limited to a certain geographic area so like I think it was a plant? Forgot to mention: I had very little overlap between the "all hives all the time" era of my allergies and the "severe migraines leading to severe dehydration" era of my allergies. Like, very occasionally my hives reaction would get bad enough I'd get the migraine and nausea as well, but very, very rarely. They aren't mutually exclusive they just seem to be for me?

[celestie0]

in holy matriphony | series masterlist.

gojo satoru x reader [18+] | angst, fluff, smut

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - next door neighbor!gojo x reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency department, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, some choso x reader, some suguru x reader, some crippling debt x reader; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ status. ongoing

ᰔ word count. 76.4k

ᰔ taglist. closed

☾·̩͙꙳ ao3 link :: header art by @/3aem

chapter index.

ch1. he said yes! congrats!

ch2. you may now kiss the bride

ch3. domestic encounters

ch4. in a mother's eyes

ch5. child's play

ch6. the in-laws

ch7. if u wanna get groceries

ch8. pending...

drabbles.

no1. pending...

headcanons.

official headcanons pt1. fluff & crack | link

a note from the author. hello! my name is ellie, and this is my second long fic series called 'in holy matriphony' which i began posting earlier this year in april! this started off as such a small lil concept idea trashing on the american healthcare system, and now it's a fullblown fic. i have sooo much planned for this series, so admittedly it will be a long one, but i am so grateful to anyone that tags along for the ride :””) please let me know if i missed any tags or warnings! and for those who may want to know before reading, this series will have a happy ending <3

series tags. #in holy matriphony

[k0mmari]

SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN AU (Pt.2)

Pt.1

Im not done with this, so to the people that wanted more, here it is! I, fortunately or not, have thought way too much again, so once more this is going to be a very, very, VERY long post. If you guys have any ideas about this btw, please do share them! I really am just letting my mind wander a bit more than usual, so maybe someone else can have more structured thoughts than me lol. (Fair warning, there probably will be plot holes, so sorry in advance!)

Please read Pt.1 if you haven't, or this won't make any sense!

After SY warped away from his impromptu meeting with Binghe, the last place he would like to end up would be even deeper into the Endless Abyss, but according to his System, the next piece of the virus was here. While not happy, since his Personal System was (mostly) working as intended, SY managed to activate Ghost Mode and walk towards the next part without having to deal with any of the creatures down there. (He had to try very hard not to get distracted by the monsters, lest his supervisor thinks he also went missing.)

It takes considerably more time to find the virus this time, so much in fact, SY starts to recognize his surroundings from SQH's ramblings (not that he was interested or anything), and he feels a cold sense of dread running down his spine. There was no way he was that unlucky that the object that got corrupted this time was-

He was that unlocky. Lo and behold, after entering a run down ruin, SY is faced with the legendary Xin Mo, power so overwhelming it manifested as dark fire covering the blade. The only reason why SY wasn't immediately writhing on the ground from the sword's power was Ghost Mode, which he could not rely for too long, as his Personal System was displaying warning after warning about Possibility of Corruption and God Like Plot Point. It all meant that SY was on a timer, and if he took too long, the sword would start corrupting his System, which in turn could corrupt him.

Now, since this was a VERY important Plot Point, Luo Binghe had to find Xin Mo or else the plot would derail to an unfixable degree, SY couldn't just snip at it, which was a problem, since manual debugging took a considerably longer time! Still, he summons his Scissors and positions it so he can start at least trimming off the virus.

His plan immediately backfires however, as an ominous crack sounds through the air and he's suddenly pushed away from the sword by a gust of energy. A bit disoriented, he shakes his head and acesses the sit-

Xin Mo, the horrible sword it was, was apparently so OP that it seemed to detect the Scissors at the last second, and the thing attacked back! The metal of the Scissors was dark and broken where it came close to the sword, almost broken in half! Which, not good! It any other time, a pair of broken Debugging Sheers would be more or less fine, if not a major inconvinience (and pay deduction) for SY, but since he'd been warping all over the time for a while now, his Personal System's energy reserves were carefully rationed, and if he were to use a chunk to send the Scissors back for some emergency repair, he'd only have one chance to go back to HQ. Alone.

He couldn't delay it any longer, he desperately needed to find SQH and pray he still had some energy reserves left.

Setting his Personal System's next warp location to SQH's last known location, SY wouldn't have guessed in a million years that he would go back to Cang Qiong Mountain, but whatever; maybe SQH had wanted to start with fixing the bug on Binghe's pendant? Not that this was the right time since it was after Binghe fell into the Abyss, but SQH had never been good at warping. It takes a bit of wandering and going inside different buildings, but eventually his Personal System managed to get a dirrect ping on SQH's System, which sent a massive wave of relief rushing through SY, since it meant that SQH was still slive.

Though as to why he was at An Ding Peak, SY could only guess.

After a bit more wandering, SY enters on what seems to be a (very messy) office space, SY feels all the pieces coming together in his mind. Half sprawled across the table with piles of paper covering the entire table's surface lay the An Ding Peak Lord, which- was already weird, since wasn't this guy supposed to be an enemy of the Peak now? After the whole betrayal thing or whatever? But that would've been something to look into later, were it not for said Peak Lord casually scrolling through a Personal System screen. A Personal System that could only be used by the System's Maintanence Staff.

SY wastes no time in deactivating Ghost Mode, and when SQH's eyes snap to his, the man jumps so high from his chair he almost falls back. It's not a happy reunion by a longshot, since SY immediately jumped his friend co-worker and demanded an explaination, almost screaming about it was all his fault for doing shitty maintenence, and creating this shitty world if it's shitty OP sword which broke his Sheers? Do you know how expensive these are?? I know you do, cause the supervisor never lets you touch the good ones cause you keep cracking all the other pairs-

It takes a more or less one whole hour to calm down SY, but eventually the younger settled and lets SQH say his bit of the story: Apparently, in his messing around with the System's world creation program when he was trying to find the bug in his world, he'd accidentaly managed to get himself actually transmigrated to PIDW, though still with (limited) acess to his Personal System, which let him still send messages to their supervisor and pretend that everything was ok. He'd gotten so unlucky too! Out of all the people to accidentaly select, did it have to be the An Ding Peak Lord? Couldn't it have been Binghe? Or MBJ- (SQH cuts his lamenting when he notices SY's absolutely viscious death glare being stared right through his soul.)

Long story short, he'd initially did try to fix his blunder, but as more time passed and SQH's access to Maintenance priviledges went out one by one on his System, he eventually just... Started actually living there. In fact, he was living so well there that he dared say his life as Peak Lord was even better then when he was with the System! Of course, since he had been integrated as a 'character' now, he had his limitations, he actually managed to get to know his fellow peak lords! He knew the name of his character's family members and his disciples! He'd managed to build a life he never even thought he could have inside the System.

Sure, did he betray the Peak? Yes, yes he did. Were they all going to die in a few years time when Binghe came back from hell? Yeah, yeah they were, and he was immensely guilty and terrified, but! The plot could be changed! He already assumed someone from the System had popped up in the Conference, as when Binghe had recently made his alliance with MBJ, and had mentioned in passing this weird thing that had happened to him just before he fell into the Abyss.

Anyways, eventually SY begrudgingly accepts SQH's decision to stay in PIDW, but he still had to help SY; and so they form a plan: SY was going to transfer some energy to SQH so he could temporarily get his acess to the full version of his Personal System and use his energy reserves to send SY's Sheers and get them fixed. SQH was also going to properly apologize to their supervisor for suddenly quitting without notice AND order some more energy stacks to be sent to SY's System. SY on the other hand had devises a plan to get closer to XIn Mo without the sword exploding his face off:

Infiltrate Demon Emperor Luo Binghe's palace as a lowly staff member and slowly debug the sword from the inside.

A perfect plan! What could go wrong?

SY selects to warp to a time where Binghe had Xin Mo mostly in control, so it is to no surprise he warps to a place were the Demonic Emperor's Palace is absolutely filled with women. Not the best situation, since a lot of people could and probably would be able to see him, but with that many harem members, it wasn't too much of a stretch to assume there was also a considerable number of staff, which, to SY's luck, there was! In fact, after he managed to activate a disguise for his clothes so they matched the rest of the servants, no one bat an eye on his presence; at most someone would inquire about his short hair, but other than that he was as noteable as a fly.

The first phase of his plan was already a success, so now he had to move on to reconnaissance which was mostly easy and the worst thing in his life. He was mostly looking for Binghe's quarters could be as he probably kept the sword close to him at all times, though with how big the palace was, his objective had gradually shifted to mapping out the labyrinth of halls as much as possible (SY was very glad that the System allowed him to create a map in real time or he might have gotten lost in the first five minutes). He walks so much he even manages to catch a few pieces of gossip, though the most interesting one by far being one about Binghe:

Apparently, a year ago, the Emperor had a qi deviation where, for a day, he seemed to have completely shifted his personality; he refused to touch any of his wives and kept screaming for his long dead Shizun. SY doesn't really remember that plot point, though his wondering is cut short when he hears people walking towards his direction. instinctively he his behind a dark corner, momentarily forgetting that he 'worked' at the palace now.

At list his bad luck was finally turning over as the Golden Protagonist himself walked past him with one of his wives hanging off his arm, looking just as cool as SY had always imagined. He had to snap himself out of his stuppor though, as two things caught his attention: First, Xin Mo was, predictably, strapped to his waist, still glitched but at least the virus seemed more or less contained, which gave SY a bit more time to work, though the other thing he noticed...

Hanging onto an old-looking braid laid SY's missing tassle that Binghe had found for him all the way back at the Conference.

What the hell was Luo Binghe doing wearing that old tassle at this day and age??

A few days passed and the Tassle Incident (as he called it) had to be set aside, as it seemed that passing as a servant also meant that other servants and even some wives expected SY to actually work. Not great, he sucked at cleaning and the other servants spared no words to make it clear to him, but it at least gave him something to do while he waited for his Scissors to arrive. SQH had sent him a few messages saying he'd gotten his part of the deal done, so now all SY could do was monitor Xin Mo's condition (from very far away), and occasionally manually debug some small virus pieces that had fallen from the sword, which luckily were easy enough to deal with that he didn't need to cut them off.

The only thing that was worrying him now is how... odd Luo Binghe seemed. Of course, he was supposed to be the pinnacle of the Cool Guy trope, so some edginess was to be expected, but Binghe didn't look just Edgy, he looked straight up depressed. There were bags under his eyes, and he barely seemed to tolerate the presence of 99% of his wives, and that damned braid with the damned tassle was still there-

Point is, Binghe acting so weird really threw SY through a loop, and he may have gotten a bit careless. At a random day when SY was carrying some dirty laundry another servant had just shoved at him, he had no prior warning before a voice sounded from behind him: "You seem to have dropped something."

He barely managed to shake off the violent sense of deja-vu that had sucker punched him in the face before he realized what was happening; Luo Binghe was talking to him. Directly to him. Shit- shit! Did he notice? Was Binghe doing a clever call back, spider-man style?? Was SY going to die????

SY shakily turns to Binghe, keeping his eyes locked onto the floor, bowing as much as possible that he still seemed respectful but the bag of clothes he had didn't all just fall to the floor. Thankfully Binghe didn't seem to mind, and simply put the fallen piece of clothing on top of the others and walked away. Though, just as SY was regaining his breath, Luo Binghe's voice stops him again. "You... Have we met before?"

SY trembles something about only being hired recently and not having the opportunity to formaly meet Junshang, and it seems to be a decent enough that Binghe just stares at him for a while longer before walking away. He really should grow out his hair if even the Emperor got weirded out like that...

Binghe started eyeing SY way more after that day. The protagonist would rarely speak directly to him, but SY could feel his gaze as if it were burning; though, since Binghe never said anything, SY just assumed that whatever Binghe's problem with him was, it was likely nothing to worry about.

In fact, it probably was because one of Binghe's wives had used SY is an impromptu act to try to get Binghe jealous (he just frowned, separated the two and walked away) and after that she had gotten infatuated with him, so she'd turned SY into her personal servant. Because of that SY saw Binghe at most two times a week instead of the 50% chnace of seeing his shadow once a week. Wow.

Because of this, as much as Binghe noticed SY, SY noticed Binghe as well, the protagonist seeming to get even more down as the days went. The tassle was still braided in his hair (SY worried it was just going to become a lock at this point), his eyebags never seemed to leave his eyes, and he was always muttering about... something. (SY managed to overhear something about 'fairness' and what Binghe actually wanted...?)

It all culminated at a seemingly random night. Most of the wives and servants had gone to sleep, only the more in-human women still hanging around, and SY, of course, but mostly it was because he wanted to see how close he could get to Binghe's quarters (aka Xin Mo) at night. Not that it was necessary, as when he was walking his attention was adruptly caught by the strangest sight: Luo binghe, sitting on one of the stone stair that lead to one of the many courtyards, being absolutely drenched in rain. The weirdest part was that a few servants and wives had also passed this place, and they all seemed like they didn't see Binghe, or didn't care.

Hating to see such an usually proud man (not that he'd seen much of that either) just soaking outside as if he'd just caught the love of his life cheating with another man, SY decided that at least he'd do a good job as a servant and take care of 'his Lord'. He grabs an umbrella from one of the adjacent rooms and slowly walks outside, covering Luo Binghe's form, not really caring if he was also getting soaked.

They stayed silent for who knows how long, but eventually, Binghe's eyes that had been laser focused on the horizon slowly blink once, as if coming out of a trance, and slowly move to SY's face, up to his hand holding the umbrella. "My Lord should get back inside. He'll get sick that way." SY half murmurs.

Binghe doesn't respond, though after a few seconds, his eyes seem to widen a bit and his breath comes out a little shaky. SY doesn't dare comment on it.

"Have we met before?" Luo Binghe asks again.

"...Yes." Shen Yuan says.

Binghe closes his eyes, and they stay like that for another hour.

Pt.3

[5sospenguinqueen]

Growing Pains Pt 2 | Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: Oscar thought leaving was the best thing for you, but quickly realised he cannot function without you.

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Suggestive content.

2024 season. Childhood sweethearts. No facelaim, just rando Pinterest pics

This acc just ended up being Landoscar fluff because I consumed too much of them after Silverstone lol

F1 Masterlist

prev.

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mclaren just posted

liked by aussiegrit, ln4 and others

mclaren oscar’s post race interviews #bahraingp 

2,559 comments

mclaren please enjoy some clips of our aussie talking about the one aspect of his life NOT involved with his job

→ user1 did mclaren just hard launch a relationship?

→ user2 no because why did they post clips that specifically don’t mention a name

→ user3 yes but the familiarity of the way he’s talking about this girl must mean it’s one he’s known since he was 14???

danielricciardo caught simping in 4k

thisisnotyn oscar sweaty got me feeling some kind of way 

charles_leclerc oh god, that goofy smile is back. i know what that means

→ maxverstappen1 he’s going to start yapping more than i do

→ user4 what do you know?!

alex_albon mate, i’m not going to lie, i don’t think we can defend you from this anymore

→ oscarpiastri you sent me memes of my face. you have never defended me

→ georgerussell63 join the club. wait until he sends you reaction gifs 

→ landonorris i love getting those 

YourUserName pookie 

→ user5 um, is she calling oscar pookie?

→ user6 well, it’s not going to be lando. he was only in one of the clips 

→ user7 idk, we don’t know what happened between them. it could’ve been a bad breakup and she might be trying to piss them off

→ landonorris ew, no. it’s not me. they made up weeks ago btw. no way osco would’ve lasted this long without his yn

→ YourUserName what do you mean ew! you’d be lucky to have me

→ danielricciardo no he wouldn’t

oscarpiastri i also talked a lot about my performance in the race

→ landonorris and where is that footage, huh??? funny how it doesn’t exist 

→ oscapiastri yn says you’re not allowed to tag along to date night anymore because you insulted both of us 

→ landonorris :(

→ user8 what do you mean he tagged along on date night?

→ user9 why are we skipping past the fact that lando confirmed that they’re back together

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YourUserName just posted

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and others 

YourUserName ladies, get a boyfriend who looks at you the way Oscar looks at Lando (actually, can you get me one first because mine seems to be broken) 

1,142 comments

oscarpiastri whoa, you told me i was a handsome boy. that photo doesn’t look like a handsome boy 

→ YourUserName some people are into the serial killer eyes. not me though, that’s why i’m asking the fans to find me a new bf

→ logansargeant i’ll help

→ user10 we know which side logan is choosing in the divorce 

landonorris how does it feel to know that your boyfriend likes me more 

→ YourUserName i know how to cut brake lines

→ landonorris 😰😰

→ mclaren yn, please don’t threaten our drivers

→ YourUserName hey, i’ll take them both out if they don’t end their affair 

→ oscarpiastri and here i was thinking you would cut his brake lines so i could get on the podium instead 

→ YourUserName sure, we can go with that

user11 can we take a moment to enjoy the fact that they’ve been back together for 4 months and he’s still letting her bully him

→ YourUserName i’m riding the guilt trip until the very end 

→ oscarpiastri i love you

→ YourUserName i know

→ landonorris but not as much as he loves me! 

→ YourUserName i know where you sleep

→ landonorris yeah, with your boyfriend!

→ oscarpiastri don’t tell the internet that! 

danielricciardo lando used to look at me that way

→ YourUserName i think we should start a spurned wags group

→ danielricciardo i’ll bring the wine

→ YourUserName i’ll bring the lightning mcqueen crocs

→ liamlawson30 can i join?

oscarpiastri sweetheart, you know you’re the light of my life

→ YourUserName didn’t feel that way when you guided lando away from a puddle and let me put my foot right in it

→ oscarpiastri i gave you my socks! 

→ YourUserName they were sweaty

→ oscarpiastri it’s all i had… 

→ mclaren yn, please stop bullying him. we can hear him crying from his driver’s room

→ user12 no because the fact that the majority of mclaren admin’s online interactions are just begging yn to behave 

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oscarpiastri just posted

liked by logansargeant, YourUserName and others

oscarpiastri when you say date night and she says I’m not putting pants on 

2,329 comments

YourUserName thank you for sharing your pizza with me after i burnt mine <3

→ oscarpiastri i can’t wait to share more with you

landonorris did she hide in your neck at the scary parts 

→ oscarpiastri no she fucking laughed at the way he was running

→ landonorris you cuddled into her neck at the scary parts, didn’t you 

→ oscarpiastri i plead the fifth

→ YourUserName it’s okay, princess, you know i’ll always protect you 

logansargeant no because they had their ‘date night’ 3 days ago and the paintings they did of each other are hanging in their bathroom, and when i tell you they were a shock to the system

→ user13 logan, show them to us, please

YourUserName it’s not my fault that it’s hard to keep pants on when you’re around 

liked by oscarpiastri

→ mclaren we talked about this 

→ landonorris my eyes! 

→ user14 @ aussiegrit come get your kids

→ YourUserName don’t tag him in it. mark still thinks i’m nice

→ oscarpiastri no, he knows you’re a gremlin

arthur_leclerc not you trying to pretend that you are romantic when you asked me for all of those ideas

→ YourUserName oh really?

→ oscarpiastri i had a whole night planned and you decided you didn’t want to go out!

→ alex_albon no because you really had him stressing

→ georgerussell63 he was even messaging the grid group chat 

→ danielricciardo he had a whole group of guys debating the best alternative to rose petals

→ YourUserName because i don’t like roses 🥹 oh, osc. it was perfect

→ oscarpiastri 🤍🤍

→ user15 anyone else finding this suspicious

charles_leclerc a date night to remember, i’m sure. and not for the lack of pants 

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user1 rough night in the piastri house, he’s upset mom and wifey 

arthur_leclerc welcome to the family, oscar. please don’t bring yn with you

→ YourUserName you’re just jealous that i didn’t want dinner with you 

→ maxverstappen1 wait, i thought i was your favourite. why don’t you want dinner with me?

→ charles_leclerc you are welcome for dinner anytime, yn

→ oscarpiastri see, what you’ve done. now lestappen are fighting. you promised to keep your crushes to yourself

user2 i love how now that oscar is past his rookie year, his true personality of being a gremlin has come out 

→ user3 now that shy oscar has gone we’re seeing just how well he pairs with yn

→ arthur_leclerc and i can guarantee the grid are missing shy oscar. i have had to put up with this since 2021

→ georgerussell63 i can confirm we do

→ logansargeant now you understand why i prefer to be quiet. if you don’t talk, they can’t bully you 

→ georgerussell63 my name on yn’s phone is amelia georgehart 

→ oscarpiastri we’ve been together for years and mine is peestri pants, count yourself lucky

→ YourUserName lando’s is just fucker. 

→ landonorris the full stop included? 

nicolepiastri i have some questions 

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YourUserName just posted

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux and others

YourUserName weekends away with you  

1,012 comments

YourUserName thank you for a lovely weekend away from the madness. i could spend forever with you in our little bubble 

→ danielricciardo oh wow so you’re both simps?

→ YourUserName look away! i have a reputation to maintain

→ oscarpiastri no you don’t. you luuuuurve me

landonorris i can’t believe you left me behind 

charles_leclerc remove your head from that poor girl’s shirt. i raised you better than that

pierregasly someone convince kiks to do this with me. she refuses to go camping

→ francisca.cgomes because neither of us would survive sleeping on the ground

→ oscarpiastri neither would yn if not for the fact that we camped in the back garden

→ YourUserName why would i want to go somewhere without a functioning toilet! 

logansargeant where is your shirt. nobody wants to see that 

→ YourUserName i think you’ll find that i did 

→ oscarpiastri she’s a big fan

mclaren please come back, we miss you 

→ oscarpiastri yn says she still has another weekend before she has to return me

→ mclaren we were talking to yn

→ YourUserName miss you too, boo 🧡

→ landonorris why don’t you speak to me like that 

→ YourUserName ‘cause you stole my osc

→ oscarpiastri no one could take me from you 

user4 no because that last pic screams engagement photo and i don't know why

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charles_leclerc just posted

liked by arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others

charles_leclerc i am an incredibly proud father right now  

10,226 comments

oscarpiastri in other words, i convinced the prettiest girl in the world to marry me 

→ YourUserName and now i have the prettiest husband in the world 

user5 how is lando taking oscar looking at someone else that way?

→ landonorris not well

→ danielricciardo he cried the whole day

→ YourUserName that’s why i gave him my flowers

→ landonorris no i earnt those!

→ lilymhe yeah, i still have the bruises! 

user6 miss rabbit has fainted 

YourUserName i enjoyed our father-daughter dance

→ fernandoalo_official @ aussiegrit the monegasque is trying to steal our children

→ oscarpiastri now i’m in trouble with mark

→ YourUserName i’ll make it up to you on our honeymoon

→ oscarpiastri 😳☺️

user6 fuck you to all the bitches who said they wouldn’t last because they’ve never dated anyone else

mclaren what a beautiful couple. i think we need to put those up around MTC

→ YourUserName i think zak would really appreciate them in his office

→ oscarpiastri what makes you think i haven’t already put them up around MTC. gotta keep my wife with me wherever i go

→ YourUserName stop making me giggle 

user7 definition of soulmates 

arthur_leclerc welcome to the family, yn. even though i asked oscar to leave you behind when he was adopted 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

YourUserName just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

YourUserName i made something 

10,229 comments

nicolepiastri and an amazing job you did, sweetheart

→ YourUserName i love you 💗

→ user8 nicer to mama piastri than she is to her own husband 

oscarpiastri i helped

→ YourUserName you contributed for like 2 seconds

→ oscarpiastri stop being mean to me or i may fall in love with you 

→ landonorris 2 second wonder

→ YourUserName you would know

charles_leclerc i’m too handsome to be a grandpapa 

→ YourUserName certified gilf 

→ oscarpiastri i cannot believe you made me read that. i thought you were better than this

→ YourUserName whoa, i have never been better than this and you know that but i can blame it on baby hormones this time

→ charles_leclerc and oscar will let you get away with it

→ oscarpiastri damn right. she just had my baby

landonorris does this mean i get the chance to win godfather of the year

→ danielricciardo don’t tell me they actually named you godfather. you can barely keep yourself alive

→ logansargeant yn got to pick me so oscar was given the choice to pick the other

→ oscarpiastri we made the decision together as loving parental unit 

→ YourUserName the decision was made whilst i was high on gas and motherly love 

→ oscarpiastri stop making it sound like i coerced you

→ YourUserName you had your top off! of course i was coerced. piastitties

→ mclaren yn, no

oscarpiastri sweetheart, i have loved you every day since we were 14 and being by your side these past 9 months, watching you go through such a monumental change, only proved that it was possible for me to love you even more. i can’t wait to see our family grow 💕

→ YourUserName i love you so much, oscie. from growing with you to growing our own mini us, i’d go through all the pain again for forever with you

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Hi, guys. If you have requested previously, I promise they're coming. I've just got them added to my list

Baby Fever Angst Series

Tag list

@barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @leclercsluvs @weekendlusting @urdad-hot @lemon-lav @rosecentury @peachiicherries

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 9

in which we find out how the morning after went for fem!reader. you finally share with spencer after unanticipated anxieties come up. you're continually shocked by his affection for you.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ (angst, fluff) warnings/tags: (preface none of the bad stuff is done by spencer) sexual harassment, slut shaming, non consensual voyeurism of sorts, blood + pain from losing virginity, talk of rape (nothing like that actually happens), implied nonspecific age gap (someone says he looks slightly older than you) non sexual nudity, showering together, intimacy, ewww being in love is embarrassing a/n: I honestly was not gonna post this today but I decided to bc it's just Tumblr its not that deep also you can probably tell I am just creating problems bc I don't wanna let go of them...... ik this is supposed to be a smutty series btw and trust good things come to those who wait!!!but anyways idk what I'm doing and I kinda hate this!! lolol!!!

Friday morning

The air is thick when you wake up—the angle of the sun through the window is lower than usual, and the binding weight of your limbs as you struggle to stretch in place all suggest that you’ve slept in. 

But you don’t check the time quite yet—for a moment, you simply lie there, studying the pattern on your ceiling, downloading the events of the previous night. 

Flashes of skin on skin, lips, breaths, whispers, promises. Phantom sensations. 

Was it even real?

Your apartment is deafeningly silent, you realize. And you have that sinking sense, which you can’t quite explain but know to be true—that you are alone. Spencer is gone. You can’t feel him like you’d be able to if he were simply on the couch or in the kitchen. He’s definitely not in bed with you, and the sheets have long gone cold. 

The truth of it renders about as slowly as your sluggish consciousness does, and you frown, not quite sure what to do with that information. Should you be angry? Should you cry?

Mostly you’re confused. 

As soon as you sit up, sore thighs and abs and a strange ache between your legs confirm that last night was not a dream nor a figment of your imagination. You’ll figure out what to do about your twinging body in a moment—for now you rub your eyes and blindly reach for the bedside table, knocking several things to the ground in your quest for your phone. 

It’s not there, you realize, once you actually try to use your eyes. It’s not in bed with you either as you pat the sheets, and it doesn’t materialize as you sit on your knees and shake out the comforter. 

From this venture, however, you learn two things. First, Spencer must’ve taken it upon himself to get you dressed last night, which you have no recollection of, but you doubt you sleepwalked your way into underwear and a big t-shirt; and second—you bled. 

It wasn’t something you were thinking about in the moment, but now, faced with all the evidence and none of the pleasure of last night’s activities, it’s jarring. A stark, unforgiving archipelago of red on a pristine sea of white. 

People say, at its best, sex brings couples closer. Spencer once told you it could facilitate feelings of deeper connection. But here you are, no longer a virgin, and what do you have to show for it? A stronger bond with your boyfriend? He’s not even here. 

All you have is this glaring red stain marring perfectly good sheets. It mocks you, like something you’ve dropped and can’t pick back up. You can’t think looking at it, and you need to think, and so in a fit of frustration you’re pulling the comforter onto the floor, leaning over your mattress and yanking the fitted sheet free. You ball it up in your hands, breathing heavily—and realize you bled through to the mattress. 

Wonderful. 

Spencer’s just at work, you tell yourself, grabbing the first pair of shorts you see and pulling them on before gathering the ruined sheet once more and stomping on aching legs through your apartment to the hallway, not even bothering with shoes. He can’t just play hooky because his clingy girlfriend lost her virginity and needs to be comforted like some previously celibate high school cheerleader.

But you miss him so much it’s making you angry, so much your eyes are stinging and welling with tears of frustration as you shove your bed linens down the trash chute at the end of your floor’s hallway. You’re supposed to be independent. That’s how you’ve always been. Since when does it bother you to wake up alone? It’s just sex. It’s not as big a deal for him as it is for you. Or for anyone. You’re the one overreacting, you’re the one who expects too much. He works for the FBI, for god’s sake. There are people dying, and here you are—

“What’chya got there?”

The gruff voice makes you jump, and you turn around just as the bundle is disappearing down into the hole in the wall. It’s your neighbor, Jerry—the one in the unit right next to you. You’re not happy to see him, especially like this. He’s got a blue 5 o’clock shadow despite the hour, and is clad in ill-fitting gray sweats and a pair of ratty slippers. His distended belly strains at the confines of an oil-stained white shirt, tied with a dingy checkered robe. You barely meet his drooping eyes before looking longingly back at your cracked door down the hall. 

“Just… garbage.” You shift your weight, hiding a wince as you try to find a comfortable position to stand in. Jerry notices this, and you wish his eyes wouldn’t linger on your bare legs like that. 

“Huh. Looks like someone had a late night.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s just noon and you’re still in your PJ’s.”

Disgusting. And who the fuck is he to judge? At least your pajamas are clean. 

You shrug. “Yeah.”

He scratches his bald head. 

“So that boy tired you out pretty good, huh?”

Your stomach drops. Your brain freezes. 

When you don’t reply, he takes the liberty of continuing on. 

“Saw him sneaking out of your apartment in the middle of the night. He looked a little older ’n you. You like ’em older?” His laugh is a cruel bark. “Yeah… He’s a lucky man. You know, it’s natural for a man to like a younger girl. Fresh meat, ’n all.” You try to speak and can only swallow a gag. Jerry adjusts his stance, hands in pockets like he’s telling you a local news story. “Heard some of it. Sounded like you were putting on quite the show. And sure, a young pretty thing like you? Hell, I would if I could. But I’ll tell you right now, you don’t wanna end up like my daughter. She wasn’t as pretty as you, but still—three kids with three men by the time she was 24. She should'a kept her damn legs closed. You know, she loved to cry rape, but you gotta ask yourself, if your legs are open all the damn time, what do you expect? Back in the day we all knew girls like that—” he bats the air dismissively. “Guess you can’t call ’em sluts anymore—they get what they’re asking for one way or another. See, I think everyone still knows it and they’re just too afraid to say it. So my advice: don’t let yourself get used up, you hear me? Not by men who are gonna ride you hard and put you away wet. So to speak. Men can smell a girl like that from a mile away, and they’ll take it as an open invitation. It’s just human nature.”

When he finally stops talking, the hallway fills with a vacuous silence. It makes your ears ring. Several moments pass, but you’re frozen. Your whole body feels intolerably hot but your blood is freezing. How are you supposed to react? 

“Hello?” He says, voice loud enough to hurt your ears as it echoes. 

Get out of here, your more rational self says to the rest of you, and you mumble something, you don’t even know what, excusing yourself to hurry on stiff legs back down the hall to your door. 

Once inside, you do up every lock on your door, and face your apartment, shoulders tensed practically to your ears and fists clenched so tight your arms are trembling. On autopilot you look around for something to do, but there’s nothing. More importantly, nobody.

I’ll call Spencer. He’ll know what to do. 

No, you won’t, your higher self reminds you. You lost your phone. And besides, it’s clearly not like he wanted to stick around last night. Maybe he doesn’t even like you anymore. 

So you’re stuck here. Stranded. Sharks can smell blood. 

Processing that information, you walk back to your bedroom and close the door behind you—before promptly sinking to the ground and burying your face in the duvet with a deep, silent sob.  

That goes on for a few minutes until you realize you’re too achy and you can’t breathe and you’re forced onto your side, curling up in your blanket on the floor like it’s a nest and not a burial plot. 

You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. A relationship can’t implode twice in 24 hours.  You don’t have your phone. Maybe he’s texted you. 

But is that really all you’re worth? A text sent after the fact? He couldn’t sacrifice a few hours to sleep by your side? Couldn’t even wake you up to say goodbye? You think about the sweet things he’d said afterward—the way he held you, fingers dancing down your spine. Promises he made when you were half asleep in his arms, so sure he’d be there when you woke up. 

Even fucking Jerry the neighbor—who you think might have just sexually harassed you in the hallway—said Spencer should’ve stuck around. 

Fuck. 

No, don’t think about that. It doesn’t even matter. They were just words. 

Heard some of it. Sounded like you put on quite the show. 

Your skin crawls and your stomach turns as you hold yourself tighter. Something that was supposed to be private and special—and some random man not only had a front row seat to your deflowering but felt comfortable talking about it with you. It feels like a violation. Like he crashed a really important party. If you had known you had an audience last night, you never would’ve done it. 

The way he looked at you, tracing your legs with his eyes like he was touching you—

You scramble up from the floor and walk heavily on your knees to the dresser, digging up a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. You should be showering, but you don’t want to deal with your body right now. You just want to hide. 

Friday evening—present

After your conversation, Spencer seems eager to make sure the car ride to his apartment is not reminiscent of the car ride to yours last night—he holds your hand, resting in your lap, bringing your knuckles to his lips at a red light. Every few moments he glances over at you, maybe to appreciate the view (though you doubt it’s especially scenic at the moment) or perhaps to gauge your mood. The further away you get from your apartment building the better you feel, and you try to focus on that. Sure—maybe you had a shit day, but Spencer’s here now, and he didn’t leave you after all. In fact, since finding your phone, you’ve seen the series of very sweet and highly concerned messages he sent over the course of a few hours. They almost make your stomach hurt. It would’ve been really nice to have those earlier. 

He doesn’t ask you any more of the hard questions, but you sense an inquisition in the works and getting closer with every curious glance he gives you. It’s like he’s unwrapping you, layer by layer, using his impressive cognitive faculties to drill through your skull into your brain and deeper still into your soul. 

Back in his apartment you sit awkwardly on the bed. Last time you’d been here, things hadn’t gone so well for you. 

The shower starts in the adjoined bathroom, and Spencer comes out a moment later, warm light seeping into the darkened bedroom. Purple and dark blue mixing with yellow, like a bruise. 

“Hey. Water’s warm.”

You hum, smoothing the material of his neatly made bed with your palm and watching the way it flattens. That had been your doing. You may have thought he was on the verge of breaking up with you last time you slept here, but you didn’t want to leave his home a mess. Didn’t want to leave any evidence of your having been here. 

A moment passes. You thumb at a thread and don’t look up. 

Spencer crosses the space without a word and crouches in front of you, hands coming up to cup the back of your legs, running knee to ankle and up again. 

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Please?” He asks softly. His voice wrings your heart out. Now that you’re in a completely different space, and you’re not so alone anymore, you’re struggling to sort out your feelings. It should be fine. You’re with Spencer. Presumably he still loves you. 

And you still feel terrible. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you whisper. 

“I know,” he says, just as quietly. 

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. I know you don’t want to—and yet. Your lips twist to the side. He’s persistent. Even in his kindness. It’s not the kind of care that falters or buckles when you try turning it away. 

“My neighbor said he c—” 

You’re forced to stop, frowning by how overcome you are. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Worse things have happened to you. 

“He said he could hear us. Last night.”

Spencer’s hands stop on your legs. You can’t meet his eyes. You’re afraid whatever you find there won’t be the right thing. 

“He’s in the unit next to you?”

You nod. “We share a wall.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation and your stomach sinks. He doesn’t understand. 

“What did he say?”

“Just… dumb shit,” you scoff, fiercely wiping away a stray tear. “He said he listened and it sounded like I was putting on quite the show. And then he—and then he told me not to let you… use me up, whatever that means. He called me fresh meat, and said I shouldn’t let you ride me hard and put me away wet, and bad things happen to sluts who can’t keep their legs closed.”

You finish with a sharp inhale, briefly leaning down and covering your face with your hands when you realize how upset you really are. You want to hide it. 

A fraught moment passes. Spencer reaches for your hands, no doubt to try and pull them away from your face. You spare him the trouble, sitting up with a cavalier sniff before he can touch you and brushing your hair behind your ears.  

His voice is uncomfortably quiet. You can’t look at him. “Baby…”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I only told you because you asked.”

It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyway, and so you avoid eye-contact like it’s the plague. Maybe it’s just safe to be mad at him. Maybe he knows that. 

Regardless, you’re not in the mood for coddling. It’s borderline repulsive—like trying to mix oil and water. Anything good slides right off of you because maybe you’re not designed to be able to absorb good things.

Nothing changes for a minute—and then he’s standing, offering you a moment alone as he goes to crank the shower off. 

As soon as he’s gone all the air is vacuumed from your lungs and you crumple, heaving it back in silently as your head spins and your heart races. It’s like your mind is split in two—half is primal, overwhelming panic, and the other a cold observatory eye, full of disdain and scorn for what it deems a severe overreaction to a few nasty comments made hours ago. You’re so tangled up as you curl in on yourself on your side that you can’t even cry. You’re just trying to remember how to breathe, ignoring the crawling feeling up your spine and the tingling heat at the back of your neck. The shower stops on the downbeat of your staggered breath, and then it’s silent. He’ll come back at any minute and see what a mess you’ve become. 

You’ve ruined everything. If only you could’ve kept it to yourself. 

When Spencer reappears in the doorway, and sees you collapsed and curling like paper burnt at the edges, he’s quick to return to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you manage, trying and failing to brush away hair from your cheek, which is wet—so you were crying—and Spencer shushes you, pushing it away for you as he kneels. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m being dramatic, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Of course, at the end of that declaration, a sob wrenches its way from the depths of you, so bright and cleaving you half expect the smell of ozone to follow. You follow it with a blisteringly self-deprecating laugh.

“Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t minimize it.”

His hand is warm where it rests over your cheek, affectionate, but he sounds frustrated. You frown and sniffle. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell me his name.” 

It’s a quiet request, made as gently as his hand cards through the hair at your temple like it’s woven with fragile threads of gold.

“No, Spencer,” you beg, anxiety pooling in your gut and rising in your throat, “please, I don’t want to make it a thing, I don’t want you to talk to him. You’ll just make it worse, it’s fine.”

You look at him imploringly, eyes wide and still welling, hoping to god the gravity of your plead will sink in. His are a bed of coals—somewhere between furious and sympathetic, and you try to appeal to the sympathy. 

“It is not fine. Saying sluts get what’s coming to them is not fine, that is a threat, and I’m not going to talk to him. I’m going to have him fucking arrested.”

You scoff. 

“For talking to me? Yeah, good luck with that. Cops are really known for being helpful when it comes to sexual harassment.”

“Baby. Men who are comfortable violating your boundaries like that are exponentially more likely to commit an actual violent crime. That is not a safe person for you to be around.”

“He’s not gonna rape me, Spencer! He’s just a gross old man! This is why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you’d make it a bigger deal than it is! You did it last night and you’re doing it now—you think everyone is out to get me!”

To his credit, he doesn’t so much as raise his voice. 

“Of course it’s a big deal. You’re upset.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my own fault.”

Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. Spencer goes silent for a moment. 

“It’s your fault?”

“Yes. It’s my fault because… because now everyone knows that I’m…”

His voice goes impossibly soft again. “Knows that you’re what?”

“I mean, what did I expect?” You sniffle. “It’s an apartment. If I didn’t want to deal with the consequences, I shouldn’t’ve done it.”

He says your name like it’s a ring he twists around his finger as he tries to think—to gather the right words. 

“The consequences for having sex do not involve punishment or sexual harassment.”

“It’s the result of my actions, so—”

“No, it’s the result of your neighbor being disgusting. I don’t care what he heard, he doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”

“He—”

“If you heard something you weren’t supposed to hear would you bring it up to the person the next day?”

“Stop interrupting me,” you plead. Spencer looks like he has something to say to that, too, but he swallows it. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I… understand that he shouldn’t have said those things to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he did, and it was really, really uncomfortable and I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna go back now. Maybe that’s dramatic, but…”

You trail off, studying the ceiling as a fresh wash of tears dampen your cheeks. Spencer’s hand slides down your waist as you wipe your face. “I don’t regret the fact that we slept together. I just regret everything that’s happened since, and if I didn’t do it last night, none of this would’ve happened. I feel like he ruined everything.”

The words end on another cry and you put your hand over your eyes like you could stop it all from coming out. You sniffle. Spencer is quiet for a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually whispers, his own voice threaded with emotion. “I…”

He sighs. You push your hair back and look at him. 

“What?”

He studies you, chewing on his lip like a nervous tick you’ve never seen before. You sit up again, feet balanced on the edge of the bed frame. Spencer’s eyes remain stuck on you. Again, you ask, “What?”

“I didn’t think about it until you brought it up earlier, but—I did see someone. Him, I think, when I went out to my car to get my bag. He was smoking when I came out, and when I got back into the lobby he was waiting for the elevator. We took it up together, he—he said something to me, so I know he saw me going back to you. I don’t know why he made it sound like I left.”

You frown. “What did he say?”

Spencer hesitates. 

“He asked if I had a long night. He was obviously commenting on the fact that I was basically half-dressed and getting an overnight bag from my car at one in the morning, so he could probably gather from context what was going on, but… my point is, he knew I came back and it seems like he was almost trying to make you think I didn’t. So for whatever reason, maybe he was lying about being able to hear you, too. Maybe he just wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s a long shot, Spencer.”

“I know, but… it’s not that long. He obviously gets off on it—and besides, he said you were putting on a show, but you weren’t… you weren’t loud, last night.”

Heats blossoms in your cheeks and you look down at your lap. “Thin walls.”

“Have you ever heard your neighbors before?”

You have to seriously think about it. 

“I’ve heard them yelling…”

“Nothing else?”

Again, you consider it. The answer comes as a surprise. 

“No.”

“Okay, so… does that maybe help a little bit? I really, really don’t want you to feel like last night was a mistake in any way, or let anyone ruin it for you.”

You breathe deeply. “I know. It… it kinda helps, yeah.”

His hands come to the top of your legs. There’s so much genuine care and concern in his eyes. “Yeah?”

Only when you nod does he relax some. His hands skim your thighs, and you set yours on top of his own. For a few breaths, it’s quiet. And then you laugh. 

“What?” Spencer asks, a tentative smile curling his own lips like he doesn’t know if he should be concerned or participate in your mirth. 

“I—I don’t know how to say it without being cheesy,” you admit, sniffling the last of your tears away and smiling softly down at him. 

“I think you should say it.”

You link your fingers with his on your lap, watching the way they twine like it’s what they were meant to do. 

“I was just thinking about how I had, like, the worst day ever. And how much worse it would’ve gotten if you didn’t show up when you did—I would’ve completely spiraled. But you did show up. And how easy it is to kind of compartmentalize, because I have you, and when I’m with you… nothing feels as hard. You make the bad things feel smaller, I guess.”

By the end, it got a lot more real than you’d intended, and your face feels warm, and your stomach is sort of floaty—but you don’t look away from Spencer. You hold his gaze, though it makes you a little nervous, because you want him to know you mean it. 

He inhales, like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t—only looks at you, like you’re beautiful and impossible and a defiance of everything he thought he knew, which was almost everything. To him, you’re expansive. A gorgeous anomaly.

And then he stands, holding his hands out for you. Without question you take them, and he pulls you to your feet, absorbing the momentum that threatens to topple you, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. So tight you have to laugh. 

“I love you,” he says against your shoulder, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 

Your humor softens, but doesn’t become inflexible—still tinges your words with the perfect amount of euphoria and relief. “I love you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and your laughter flares again. 

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I’m grateful. I… I feel lucky.”

Always so earnest, so vulnerable, when you’re least expecting it—which should be always, you’re learning. You pull back to look up at him. You don’t want that concession to go unrewarded. 

“Me too,” you say softly. He’s doing that fond thing with his eyes, where they’re all soft and it’s like he’s trying to take in every millimeter of your face. This time when he goes to touch your hair, you have the wherewithal to dodge it. 

“You’re really brave for trying to touch my hair right now.”

“Why?” He asks, utterly bewildered, and the softness of the moment falls away easily, but not without leaving everything smudged and fuzzy around the edges. Everything is still okay. It’s still good. 

“Because it’s dirty,” you laugh, dodging him again and eventually ducking from the circle of his arms entirely. 

“Oh, your hair is dirty? Should we breakup?”

“Hm. I don’t really like when you take on that tone with me.” You’re still half-laughing, dipping and weaving past him toward the bathroom as he tries to get you in his arms again. And then you stop, toes just short of the tile. 

“What is it?” He asks after another moment. You blink, looking at the shower head as it drips. 

“Um—would it be okay if I had a five minute headstart in the shower?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I just… I need a minute.”

His hand skims your waist as he passes by you through the open door. “Okay. Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll get the water going again?”

Soon enough, you’re remembering how much better his water pressure is than yours as you stand under the torrent, eyes closed as if in prayer. You definitely could’ve stood to shower earlier in the day. But you had other concerns, earlier, and besides—you were afraid of what you might find. 

And you were right to be. The sex was nice. The aftermath isn’t quite as pretty. 

When Spencer taps on the bathroom door, you’re nervous. 

“You can come in,” you call. 

“You sure? If you want it all to yourself, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

The door creaks open, and gently clicks into place again, and fabric rustles as he undresses, and soon the shower curtain is sliding aside and he’s stepping in. Unsurprisingly, the space feels smaller with him in it—but not small in a bad way. It feels warmer. Again you’re awash in that safe feeling, which you didn’t realize you’d been missing so much today. 

“Hi,” he smiles, a teasing sliver of what you know to be the most brilliant light in the world, and stunning like the rest of him as you watch the water begin to darken his hair. 

“Hello.”

His smile flickers briefly wider like you’re his favorite thing and he just can’t contain his joy, and then it’s easing again, giving you a moment to catch your breath. 

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

In this alien context the idea has your heart pounding—you don’t really understand the concept of casual nudity yet, but you know he’ll respect your earlier wishes to keep it chaste and so you nod. 

Spencer doesn’t take you immediately in his arms like you’d expected—instead his hands find a rest at your collarbones and carefully push your wet hair back over your shoulders—but his eyes aren’t cast quite low enough to be indecent. They connect dots over your chest and neck, and he thumbs at one just over your pulse point. 

“Oh, man,” he laughs, and you think you detect a hint of self-deprecation. “That’s… wow, I didn’t realize I… sorry. They don’t hurt, do they?”

It’s your turn to smile as he’s suddenly over-concerned. 

“No, they don’t hurt.”

“Good.” He looks relieved, but it doesn’t last as his eyes trace lower—though you don’t sense any hunger in it. He’s just taking you in. “How about everywhere else?”

“Um… it’s not bad. Kind of, like… I don’t know. Sore. But it’s not bad.”

“Still?” He frowns, clearly unfazed by your evident embarrassment on the subject. You shrug and avert your eyes. 

“It’s fine. it was worse earlier, so.”

That does not have the calming effect you’d intended. 

“Worse? 1-10, how—”

“Spencer, it’s fine, I promise. It’s only when I—when I move certain ways, I notice. Honestly the… blood… was way more disconcerting to me.”

“Yeah, I saw your bed… sorry for ruining your sheets. I’ll buy you new ones.”

You shrug, watching the water run in rivulets down your arm and branch off into tributaries and waterfalls from your fingers. “You don’t have to do that. It was a collaborative effort.”

Normally this conversation would have you melting into an embarrassed puddle, but something about the tile cocoon of the shower, the humid fog, the proximity, feels safe. The white noise of water on porcelain, the warmth. You go to him at the same time as he comes to you—his arms around your waist, yours slung over his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. Falling asleep standing up has never seemed so plausible until now. 

He presses a kiss to your head. You sigh. 

“Ugh. I don’t want to deal with washing my hair.”

“I can do it,” Spencer immediately offers. You frown. 

“I was—you don’t have to. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was asking.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It’s a process.”

“I understand.”

“You would have to do it exactly how I say.”

“I am willing to learn. I like taking care of you.”

You’re glad for the hot water, then, and as he washes your hair. You’re not sure if you’re crying at the tenderness of his touch, or the way he loves you like you’re easy to love. You’re too tired to explain it. 

He doesn’t push you, because he never pushes you. 

He just washes your hair. 

-

part ten

[yoyomomiko]

Hello so I have a Daisuke x reader request if you don't mind! I loved the make out story you did and so if you don't mind Daisuke and reader making out an Daisuke bitting HARD on reader skin like this 😨 hard so hard that the EVERYONE could notice it and how it go to that point like if you don't mind

You don't have to do! If you don't want! Have a nice day!

Pairings: Daisuke x F!reader

Warnings: BITING; marking; hickeys, SUGGESTIVE (kinda nsfw, so mdni I guess??), cringe, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

(A/N): I had a little bit too much fun writing this😨 THIS IS SO GROSS AND CRINGE WHAT DO I DO😣 Btw I like, haven't posted a fic in so long lol, I'm really sorry and all, I'm a bit late🤠 -> m.list

Daisuke's hands were both on opposite sides of your head, your legs wrapped around his waist and hands thrown loosely over his shoulders.

His lips were pressed to yours in a deep, heated kiss. He gently bit your bottom lip, as if asking for you to open your mouth. You let out a soft gasp and slowly parted your lips, his tongue immediately finding its way inside and twirling around with your own.

After a few moments, he pulled away, panting. You were breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down as you stared at him, watching him gaze back at you with love filling his eyes. You adored the way his hair fell down and over his face most of the time when he was looking down at you, when you were in the same exact position as you were in right now.

Daisuke smiled at you, his face burying into your neck as he started leaving soft kisses down to your shoulder. You chuckled at the ticklish sensation, with the way his lips barely hovered onto your skin, lightly pressing kisses. One of his hands went to hold onto your waist, the other supporting him.

His gentle kisses slowly turned to sucking, earning whines from you. He left a few faint red marks on your shoulders that would surely fade away in a few hours, luckily not too visible.

Daisuke trailed his kisses to your jaw, your hands tangling in his hair. All of the sudden, he bit down on your neck, digging his teeth into your skin and drawing out a yelp from you as you pulled on his hair. He gently licked the mark, sucking to soothe the pain.

Daisuke pulled back as he chuckled, staring down at you with nothing but joy in his eyes. He admired his work, eyes scanning over the faint red splotches, until he came upon the one he just gave you a few seconds prior. It slowly turned into a dark purple spot, right on your upper neck, on display to anybody passing by.

"Sorry." He smiled at you, to wich you raised a brow in confusion.

"You might need to cover that up." He added, nuzzling his face into your neck as you slowly came to the realization that yes, he did leave a noticeable mark.

"I thought we talked about where you place your kisses." You sighed out, fighting a smile at his stupidity.

"We did?"

You shook your head, knowing it was pointless. Just how would you walk around the ship now?

...

...

You thought you were slick enough.

You pulled your uniform collar a bit higher, covering over the mark perfectly.

What you didn't know, was that if you even tilted your head slightly, it would be completely evident.

...

...

CURLY

You were hurrying out of Daisuke's room, hoping not to be seen by others, scanning the area and making sure no one was there.

You fixed up your hair a bit, pulling the collar of your uniform higher.

Your shoes tapped on the floor, rushing through the hallways. You weren't even looking up ahead, eyes glued to your feet.

You raised your head just in time to prevent yourself from crashing into your captain, forcing your legs to stop abruptly.

You smiled nervously, looking at him and giving a short nod as a greeting, to wich he reciprocated.

Although his eyes seemed to linger on you for a while longer, his brows furrowing as he studied you.

"You okay?" He asked, his expression one of curiosity and hesitance.

"Yeah... Why wouldn't I be?" You replied, your brow arching in confusion.

"No reason... Carry on." He nodded, giving an unsure smile as he walked away, leaving you dumbstruck.

...

It HAD to have been a hickey. He knew it too well. He was aware of how one looked like... But that mark specifically looked more like teeth marks to him. As if someone bit down onto you.

Curly was a bit perplexed. He didn't remember there being a rule against relationships among the crew... But then again, who was it?

His suspicion was aimed at Daisuke, since you two are in close age range and always hang out together.

JIMMY

Your feet dragged on the floor lazily, humming to yourself on your way to meet Anya.

Just then, you saw Jimmy walking towards your direction. You didn't like Jimmy.

You almost rolled your eyes, but you gave a quick wave so he doesn't think you're an asshole.

He gave a nod back, before stopping briefly to look at you. He stared you down, eyes going wide and a frown forming on his lips.

"What the hell happened to you?" He asked in disgust, studying you.

You raised a brow as you tilted your head to the side in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

He sighed and shook his head, looking straight ahead again.

"Nevermind... slut." He mumbled the last part, chuckling as he walked away.

You swore you heard him insult you, but you just didn't hear him well enough, therefore there was no evidence.

...

He knew DAMN WELL.

Fingers pointed proudly at Daisuke.

Jimmy always had a feeling you two were a bit TOO close, not co-workers type of close, neither friends type of close.

He just didn't expect the dumbass to have a chance, let alone manage to get into your pants.

ANYA

After all of those uncomfortable encounters and awkward situations, you finally stopped in front of the medical room, where Anya was currently working.

Before you could enter, Anya herself came out of the room, a bit surprised to see you there as she flinched, before smiling quickly.

"Oh, you scared me..." She spoke, her eyes studying your face before they stopped at a specific spot.

Her brows furrowed a little, seeming concerned.

"Are you alright?" She asked, thinking it was maybe a rash, or possibly even allergies.

"Hm? Why wouldn't I be?" You questioned, squinting your eyes at her.

Everybody's been acting weird today...

Anya's eyes widened for a brief second as she took a closer look, her lips parting before they shut closed. She felt a weird burning feeling through her chest, and her mind just fogged up. Did something bad happen to you?

But you seemed happy... Maybe a little tense, but happy nonetheless. She thought back to all the times she's caught you and Daisuke in each other's rooms, brushing it off as just "friends talk", or all the times she's seen you two chatting a bit too smug in the hallways, also every single time she's heard you two flirt with each other. The corners of her mouth were fighting for life, trying to hold back a smile.

"No, nevermind, I think you should check up on that." She suggested, patting your shoulder and walking past you.

"Wait, I wanted to tell you something!"

"Check up on Daisuke while you're at it..." She whispered to herself, letting out a quiet giggle.

Your brows raised, lips forming a thin line. Just what the hell was going on?

...

It was hard to believe that YOU would actually do such a thing. She just couldn't think of her friend doing stuff like this.

She knew all too well it was Daisuke.

Another thing is that she was incredibly shocked at the fact that Daisuke managed to leave such a mark on you, she pondered for a while and came to the conclusion that it must've hurt like hell.

SWANSEA

You felt weird, getting scanned by your crew members' eyes and maybe even judged by some.

So why not try and find Daisuke, pretty much the only person who know how to comfort you best?

Of course, he'd be with Swansea.

You opened the door, but your boyfriend wasn't there, only the same grumpy man.

"What do you want?" Swansea asked, before turning to look at you.

"Just looking for Daisuke." You replied, taking a quick glance around the room.

"Are you okay?" He asked, squinting his eyes at you.

"Everyone's been asking me that, I don't get it!" You didn't bother responding, your brows furrowing as you started getting a bit irritated.

"Pull up your collar or something. Damn animals..." He muttered that last part, going back to his work as you stood there in utter shock.

So that's what was wrong.

...

Swansea already knew it. All too well.

Daisuke was just praising you so much, talking his ear off, mentioning every single detail you had.

Since the airhead can't keep secrets too well, he managed to accidentally spill it out one day.

But it wasn't like Swansea didn't know, he's caught you two together a couple of times, he just never talked about it.

...

You felt your cheeks heat up as you tugged harshly on your collar to pull it up, wanting the ship to crash right at this moment.

Screw you Daisuke. Screw your boyfriend for embarrassing you in front of everyone.

★yoyomiko ★miko

[kitten4sannie]

dolce and gabbana

pairing: san x guest! reader (fem)

genre: pure smut with a tiddlywink of plot

summary: san can’t seem to get you off his mind after sitting next to you during the latest D&G showcase, so he has no choice but to get you on his dick instead.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: some alcohol use, subby until he’s not! san, dommy mommy who folds instantly when san asserts himself! reader, both reader and san mutually go after one another despite knowing one of them is MARRIED (hoes will be hoes what can i say <3), reader’s husband is a dick ofc, misogyny (from said husband), cheating, seduction, exhibitionism, mommy/daddy kink….. (i’m weak okay,,), teasing, mainly!! praise and pet names, one instance of false praise, [ the following happens inside a crowded room of ppl and possiblyy in front of reader’s husband: groping, fingering, kissing, dry humping, one neck bite, san cums untouched, ] ITS BIG BTW AND CURVED……, oral (giving/receiving), squirting, one singular pussy slap, san puts reader into a mating press on her husband’s side of the bed just for funsies, manhandling, size kink, breeding kink, creampies (sannie cums a lotttt)

a/n: as a pudding since day 1 i am in absolute shambles thanks for asking <3 and YES im very aware i posted yesterday but the fic demons cannot be silenced!!! and just fyi i’m sure san was very grateful and absolutely brimming with excitement to be at the show!! the way i wrote him here does not reflect his actual feelings towards anything,, its just a silly fic and i wrote what i wanted lol. also i wish i could tell you how many times “dolce and gabbana that’s on my titties~” played in my head while i typed this out 😭😭 (also i did not proofread this whatsoever so forgive me if there are errors) but anyways, i hope you enjoy :33

song recs: la romana by bad bunny, rover + peaches + nothing on me by kai, planet goddamn by mac miller

San knew eyes would be on him. Why wouldn’t they be? He was dressed to the nines, his hair slicked back to showcase his alluring, feline-like eyes, his sharp, angular features that could give someone a fatal cut if they looked for too long, and most importantly, he was all decked out in a sleek black custom-made top that perfectly adorned his broad shoulders and chest, one that even cinched securely around his impossibly tiny waist. Of course it did. It had been custom fit and made just for his body. Even the tailor had jokingly mentioned that Michelangelo himself must’ve sculpted him to perfection in the heavens before San was born, but San wasn’t laughing. He perfected his body through his own sheer willpower and determination alone, to be the best that he could be for his own self — and if people just so happened to drool over the results of his hard work, then that was simply a perk.

Holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the many camera flashes, he continued to make his way down the walkway, offering many of the starstruck guests a courteous, though charming smile, wondering if their wandering gazes were due to his breathtaking ensemble or what was sitting just below it. The thought tickled him. It continued to amuse him throughout the afternoon, taking picture after picture with eager guests and wealthy tycoons alike, quite pleased with himself when neither man nor woman could seem to control themselves around him, their eyes always drifting downwards to look San up and down like he were next up in an auction, their mouths pressed to their champagne flutes in an effort to quell the thirst they felt, their free hands lingering just a little too long on the small of his back when they bid farewell to him.

San relished the fact that these poor starving individuals could never get a taste of him, no matter how incredibly rich or influential they were. None of them would get a bite of the forbidden fruit without permission from God.

It was then that the show started, various eye-catching models sashaying their way across the aisle to showcase the latest D&G collection, all displaying their own unique set of features and charm. All flawless and angelic in their own right, but they were almost predictable in that way — like mannequins made solely for the rich and beautiful to gawk at. San couldn’t help but look past them, only focusing on the expensive, tailor made clothes that were framing their perfect bodies. And after a while, he almost seemed to grow bored. Of what, exactly? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the sheer gaudiness of it all, the lack of self awareness for things that really mattered in the modern world, and the almost nauseating amount of figurative autofellatio the beautiful people around him seemed to be fond of doing. San would’ve pondered it more when somebody near him gently patted his thigh, causing him to look down at the small manicured hand, the diamond ring around your finger glinting in the light like a warning sign.

“Are you bored like I am?” you whispered softly into his ear from beside him, giving him a quaint smile when he turned his head to face you.

San blushed, leaning slightly in your direction. “Am I that obvious?”

“No, don’t worry. None of these drones will be able to notice.” You motioned your head to the crowd around you, their phones in hand, all whispering to each other about how revolutionary the new collection was, despite it looking eerily similar to the fall one from the year before. “You could whip your cock out and no one would bat an eye.”

“Oh?” San studied your flirtatious smile, then looked down just to make sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him. Yep, the ring was still there — and it probably cost more than a year’s worth of rent. Delighted by your forwardness, San took it upon himself to tease you, reaching down to slowly unbutton his slim-fitted pants. “Well, if that’s the case…”

Your cheeks turning bright red, you reached downwards to shield his crotch from view, looking up at him with wide eyes, your faces now impossibly close. “I-i was fucking with you! Don’t actually take out your dick…”

San’s sharpened eyes flitted from your gaze to your cherry red lips, letting go of his zipper to gently take your hand in his, pressing it firmly down onto his thigh. “Yet…?” he challenged huskily, wondering if you were like all the others and would yank your hand back, scoff in disgust, and pretend as if it had never happened. It was then that San felt you squeeze your warm hand into the meat of his thigh, your fingers just barely pressing into the inseam of his pants.

“You can be a good boy and wait till the after party, can’t you?” you asked in a lower, sultrier tone, pressing your lips to his cheek to leave your mark on him, your hand moving further up his thigh, only pulling away when you felt something hard press into your palm. Smiling sweetly, you leaned in again, this time allowing your lips to brush over his. “Good things come to those who wait.”

And just like that, you turned forward to focus on the models all gathering onto the stage at once along with the designers, clapping along with the rest of the crowd when they all took a bow. You blew a kiss to one of the designers who caught it and pretended to put it in his pocket.

Still breathless from your short encounter, San nudged your thigh with his own, biting into his lip and tasting the sweetness of your lipstick. You nudged him back, glancing at him through the corner of yours eyes, licking at your own lips, like a predator would before pouncing on their prey.

San couldn’t believe he had finally met someone like you. There was a serpent in his garden — and he couldn’t wait for it to swallow him up.

-

The after party was predictable as always — strangers binge drinking and snorting powder off of your previously pristine marble tabletops, others telling embellished stories about their latest trip to their private islands, to various vague acquaintances doing god knows what in your many empty guest rooms. All of that chaos saught to entice you, and you could not, for the life of you, care about what your husband was currently cackling over with his close friends, instead focusing on the crackling wood sitting inside the fireplace you were all huddled near. When you inevitably ran out of champagne, you patted your husband’s leg so that he could remove his arm from your waist.

He looked down at you with indifference. “What is it?”

“I need more champagne, honey. I’m going to get some.”

Your husband’s face scrunched up. “Haven’t you had enough? If you drink any more, you’re going to lose your nice figure.” He looked to his friends for validation who all simply nodded along in agreement.

Your husband’s chauvinistic comments didn’t bother you anymore, just his persistent presence in your life. He was like a mosquito that was always trying to drain you, one that you could never seem to swat away. Well, nothing a little dick couldn’t fix. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall the tailor coming in this morning for an emergency visit to alter a certain suit,” you mentioned, this time pushing your husband’s arm away from you, surveying his now quiet friends with an unbothered look, before wandering off, not registering the insecurity driven ramblings that your husband was sending your way.

Once you made your way into the crowded loft, you searched your surroundings for what you were looking for, humming at the sight of the pretty boy from earlier sitting on the large plush couch in the corner, his cheeks flushed red, haphazardly holding onto a half-empty champagne flute, his attention on one of the models that had walked for your husband’s collection a few hours earlier. He was even more handsome now that you could study his captivating details, your eyes drifting over his bulky frame, from his large arms and shoulders, to his delicate waist, and down to his spread thighs, zeroing in on what was between them, knowing that the beautiful stranger was blessed in more ways than one based off what you had felt earlier.

Without hesitation, you slowly made your way across the room, your stiletto heels digging into the fur carpet below with each concentrated step, licking your red lips when the model placed one of her hands on San’s thighs and squeezed it, his suddenly submissive expression causing more knots to form within your core. You were going to make him yours.

San could barely hear the pretty model’s words over the loud music and the many overlapping voices inside the loft, not knowing what to say when she moved closer to him, clearly going in for the kill. It was then that someone stood over him, their heel nudging into his loafer. He looked up, his once hazy eyes opening wide at the sight of you standing above him with a bottle of champagne in one hand, your other hand already cradling his face. “M-miss…there you are…”

“Here I am,” you purred, running your fingers along his jaw, satisfied with the fact that your lipstick print was still visible on his tan skin.

Just about spilling the rest of his bubbly onto his lap, San gulped, slowly spreading his thighs open wider and patting one of them, giving you a silent invitation to take things further.

Humming, you lowered yourself into his lap, your plush thighs and ass pressing snuggly against his lower half. “Look at you,” you cooed softly into San’s ear, not caring to give the now fuming model any attention, lowering the cold champagne bottle in between your bodies, chuckling at the soft whimper he let out when it pressed into the exposed sections of his skin. “You’re such a good boy, saving a seat for Mommy like this. Aren’t you, baby?”

San’s throat went dry. He must’ve done something truly benevolent in a past life to deserve this. “Y-yes, I am, s-so good for you…”

“Then, be good and open your mouth,” you purred, lifting the almost empty bottle and pouring some into your mouth. San’s jaw slowly dropped, not knowing that he was already beginning to drool. You didn’t mind, clutching the sides of his heated face and pressing your parted lips onto his, transferring the sparkling alcohol to him, but not without running your tongue over his.

San brought his hands up near the sides of your ass, his fingers trembling, not knowing if he was allowed to touch you, whimpering into your mouth when you sucked the alcohol off of his tongue.

“You can touch, baby.” You reached for his wrists and brought his hands underneath the hem of your short dress, gasping when he squeezed the softness of your ass in between his ringed fingers and began to slowly guide your hips, your clothed cunt rubbing back and forth over his stiffening cock. “Mm, someone’s eager, hm? You’re a naughty one, making the main designer’s wife grind on your cock like this in front of everyone.”

“It’s…Mommy’s fault…” San murmured near your ear, rolling his own hips up into yours, making you feel every inch of his trapped throbbing cock each time he ground himself into you, biting into his lip at the sound of your breathless moans, swearing he saw your grimacing husband from over your shoulder.

“My fault, huh? Mommy should make up for it, shouldn’t she?” you sighed back onto his heated skin, pressing kiss after kiss onto his collarbones, dragging your tongue along the constellation of freckles he had on his neck, making him shudder underneath you.

“Uh-huh…” San moaned out, your hand suddenly squeezing into and sliding back and forth over his erection, your thumb repeatedly rubbing over the pronounced tip, knowing he was staining his expensive pants with sticky pre-cum. “F-fuck, I’ll cum if you keep doing that…”

“So sensitive, baby, you’re so cute…but you’re not the only one, you know? Look what you did to Mommy~” You gave his balls a gentle squeeze just to hear him whimper, before letting go, instead reaching for his hand again and leading it between your legs, moving your soaked panties to the side just in time for San to fill you up with two thick fingers.

“You’re so wet…” San groaned, unable to keep himself from adding another digit inside your slick hole, beginning to pump them in and out of you, allowing the both of you to listen to the obscene squelching sounds your cunt made each time he finger-fucked you. Something switched inside of San when you began to whine and whimper, and fuck yourself back on his fingers, your eyebrows screwed upwards, begging him for more with your teary, half-closed eyes. “So fucking wet just for me, huh? Hey, Miss, did you know your husband is standing just across the room? Think he’s hard knowing I just got his pretty little wife wetter than she’s been in her entire life?”

“B-baby, don’t tease me like that,” you whispered, not wanting the control you had over him to slip out of your grasp, grabbing onto his shoulders, accidentally causing pieces of his solid outfit to fall off and land onto the leather couch.

“It’s San, Miss, but you can call me Sannie if you wanna be a good girl for me,” he chuckled, shoving his fingers into you up to the knuckles, rolling your clit around underneath his heavy thumb. “And, I’m not teasing you, my love, he’s really watching us, and he looks like he wants to kill me.”

Just as you looked behind you to catch your husband’s displeased gaze, San began to ram his soaked digits into your spasming cunt, feeling his lips, tongue, and teeth on your neck. “O-oh my god, Sannie, oh, fuckkkk…”

Just as your warm arousal began to pour out onto his fingers and lap, San bit down into the area where your neck and collarbone connected, letting out a few stunted groans, his hips jolting up into yours, coating the insides of his designer pants with white.

“Did you just…?” you began, before San stuffed his fingers into your mouth, growing quiet and sucking your arousal off of them. He pulled them out with a pop, but you didn’t even get the chance to continue your question because you were suddenly being lifted up into the air, strong hands clutching your thighs, your legs hooked around San’s waist.

Your defeated, emasculated husband was just a blur when San carried you through the crowded room and up the stairs, not stopping until he got to the largest room at the end of the expansive hallway.

“Which side does your husband sleep on?” San asked, once he stood at the foot of the kingsized bed.

“On the right. Why do you–O-oh,” you gasped as he quickly laid you out on the right side of the bed and lifted your dress up, forcefully spreading your thighs open so that he could bury his face in your cunt, repeatedly lapping at your slit and clit over your soaked panties until he couldn’t take it, reaching up to tear your panties off with ease. “Sannie, baby boy, what’s gotten into you?”

San looked up at you with dark, dilated eyes, reaching up to his broad body to rip off the rest of his outfit, his solid muscles flexing as he closed his fingers around your waist, yanking you lower so that your cunt was closer to his face, looking like he was about to eat you alive. “Daddy’s hungry,” he simply replied, diving back into your cunt to lick and slurp up your juices, tonguing your hole just to feel you clench around him, his nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a starved man.

Sooner or later, you began to shudder and pant, tugging at the ends of San’s sweaty hair, your thighs pressing into the sides of his head until he forcefully held them down, quickly moving his head up and down as he dragged his tongue roughly over your throbbing clit, his focused eyes never leaving yours. “S-sannie, I’m really, fuck– I’m gonna cum…!”

“Cum for Daddy,” he demanded gruffly, stuffing three fingers into your cunt and pounding them into your g-spot, lifting your ass up with his other hand so that he could catch the stream of arousal that suddenly squirted out of you, some of it inevitably soaking into the satin sheets below you. San licked your juices from his lips, going down to give your puffy cunt one last lick to savor your taste, before standing up from the bed and unbuckling his pants.

“Y-you….Did you get possessed by a demon?” you asked half-jokingly, unable to keep your thighs from trembling, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist.

His cock now directly near your face, San smiled devilishly down at you, his dimples appearing. He lazily ran a closed hand along his curved, dripping length. “And if I did? You’d still let me fuck you, wouldn’t you? Because Mommy’s a good little slut, huh?”

“What do you think?” you mused, just before running your tongue along the underside of San’s heavy cock up to the salty tip, a pleased chuckle vibrating from your throat.

“Yeah, get it wet for me…” he mumbled absentmindedly, pushing his fingers through your hair to move it out of the way. San pressed his thighs tightly against the side of the bed, thrusting shallowly into your mouth, watching fondly as you sucked and licked the beads of pre-cum that leaked from the slit.

Just when San began getting worked up, you pulled yourself off of him and sat up to rid yourself of your useless, disheveled dress. Hearing a distinct groan of approval, you reached up for the handsome stranger, licking the saltiness from your lips. “Now, you come here and show Mommy just how much Daddy wants her.”

“Yeah? I’ll show you…” San wasted no time climbing back onto the bed and folding you up into a mating press, leaning back to send a few wads of spit onto your cunt, smacking his hand against the wetness for good measure, before he plunged himself deep inside you. “In fact, I’ll make sure you never forget, baby.”

You just about screamed, not ready for San’s unusual size and shape, the curve of his cock rubbing deliciously along your tightening walls each time he pounded himself into you. “S–ann–ie…! It’s so big, fuck– so good!”

“Aww, poor baby’s never had a big cock stretching out her pretty pussy before, huh?” San cooed into your ear, pulling all the way out, just to slam himself back in, hitting your g-spot dead on, making you cry out deliriously. “You’ll never be able to go back to your husband after this. You’re gonna be begging for me to take care of you from now on….” San pressed his lips against yours, sucking on your tongue as you moaned out for him. “Want you to cum for me again, baby…Squirt on my cock, okay?”

“S-Sannie, it’s too much,” you whined out, dragging your nails down his broad back, your toes curling just as San punched your next orgasm out of you when his curved cock once again came in contact with your g-spot.

As you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure, San licked your tears away, gently pressing his lips into your cheek and jaw, shushing you. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s here for you.” He clutched you close, holding still inside you, as his cock began to twitch. “Here it comes, princess, just for you.” A hot, creamy stream of cum began to shoot out into you, completely drenching your insides with his load.

You could hardly speak at this point in time, solely concentrated on the pleasure that still had a hold on your sore body and the warmth that was filling you up to the brim, suddenly realizing that your husband really wasn’t going to be happy with you. “Y-you shouldn’t have…nnnngh….”

San continued to roll his hips into you, his eyelids fluttering, groans spilling from his throat, your cunt still milking his pulsing cock for all it had, which was a lot, to say the least. Once there was nothing left to give you, San leaned down, pressing one last kiss to your lips, not caring that you had left your lipstick all over him. “Can I ask you something, baby?”

“Y-yes, San?”

San smiled, his glossy brown eyes glistening in the light. “When you have my baby, will you have the heart to tell your poor husband that it’s actually mine?”

Panting heavily and trying to process what the handsome stranger just said, you finally came to the realization that you let someone who didn’t even know your name possibly impregnate you. Well, at least you had something to talk about over breakfast with your husband, rather than hear him go on and on about his latest collection.

“I’m not sure about that one…”

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“Hm?”

“Should I name our baby Dolce or Gabbana?”

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[gf2bellamy]

Hiii

I was wondering if you could do established post prison spencer and shy reader, where he unintentionally calls her a pet name (preferably angel but anything sweet is fine!) and she gets all flustered and her brain short circuits, but he doesn’t notice. And then he does it again, but notices this time and decides to tease her about it. Thankyouuuu <3 (No pressure at all btw!)

angel — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: established relationship , use of nickname "angel" a/n: hi hi hi !! hope you like this <3 also this gif makes me weak in the knees

“Spencer, I’m home,” you called out. The scent of fresh pastries clung to the air, warm and sweet, as you held a paper bag.

You had left early this morning, well before the sun had fully risen, slipping out of bed carefully so as not to wake the man still tangled in the sheets.

Even then, Spencer had stirred, his fingers instinctively tightening around your waist in half-conscious protest.

“Be careful,” he had mumbled against the pillow, voice heavy with sleep, before finally—reluctantly—letting go.

Now, you heard the familiar sound of shuffling footsteps, followed by the soft creak of the bathroom door opening.

Moments later, Spencer appeared in the living room, still slightly disheveled, his damp curls sticking up in odd directions from his shower.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice still sounding slightly sleepy.

He stepped closer, taking the bag from your hands before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“What did you get?” he asked, settling onto the couch and peeking inside the bag with curiosity.

You sat down beside him, tucking your legs underneath yourself as you watched him rifle through the contents. “Your favorites,” you answered simply, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Spencer hummed, pleased, but before he could reach inside, you beat him to it, pulling out the chocolate donut you had specifically gotten for him. You held it out to him with a teasing glint in your eyes. “Here. This was the last one, so you got lucky.”

His lips twitched in amusement as he took it from you, wasting no time before taking a bite. As he chewed, he leaned back against the couch, and with a familiarity that had long since become second nature, he reached for you—his fingers curling around your leg, pulling you closer.

Content, you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder as he continued eating.

Then, Spencer pressed a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring against your hair, “Thank you, angel.”

Your body froze.

Your brain short-circuited, replaying the word over and over again as if trying to make sure you had actually heard it.

Angel.

It was soft, affectionate, intimate in a way that made your heart stumble over itself.

Spencer, completely unaware of your inner turmoil, took another bite of his donut, his attention drifting elsewhere as if he hadn’t just turned your brain into static noise.

Meanwhile, you sat there, wide-eyed, practically vibrating with flustered energy.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to take a slow, deep breath. Your face was on fire.

Spencer still didn’t seem to notice.

You weren’t sure if you should say something—should acknowledge it—or if you should just sit there, pretending that your heart wasn’t currently attempting to break the sound barrier.

Instead, you squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead against his shoulder in an attempt to steady yourself.

Spencer glanced down at you. “You okay?”

You nodded quickly, though you weren’t entirely sure if that was true.

He simply wrapped an arm around you, tucking you closer against his side, and went back to eating as if he hadn’t just shattered your entire world with one simple word.

And despite the lingering flustered feeling in your chest, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t mind hearing it again.

A week had passed since that morning, and Spencer had been away on a case for the past two days. You missed him terribly.

Lazily, you curled up on his couch, wrapped in your favorite sweater of his—the soft, oversized one that still smelled like him.

A book rested in your lap, though you had read the same sentence at least three times now, too distracted to focus. You absentmindedly popped a blueberry into your mouth, sighing.

Then, you heard the familiar jingle of keys at the door.

Your heart leaped into your throat, and before you could even process it, you were already up on your feet.

“Hi!” you blurted out the moment Spencer stepped inside.

He barely had time to shut the door before you were in front of him, eyes shining with excitement. He let out a surprised chuckle, dropping his bags carelessly to the floor before immediately wrapping his arms around you.

The hug was bone-crushing, his grip tight as if he was trying to mold you into him, make up for every second he had been away. His lips pressed into the top of your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.

You melted.

“I missed you,” you murmured into his curls, rubbing slow circles against his back.

Spencer let out the softest sigh, like the tension of the last few days had completely unraveled just from having you in his arms.

His voice was muffled against your skin when he mumbled, “Missed you too, angel.”

Your entire body stiffened.

It was like your brain hit a glitch, your hands freezing mid-movement as your breath caught in your throat.

Angel.

Again.

For the second time, the simple endearment sent your mind into overdrive, your heartbeat stuttering as warmth spread through you like wildfire.

Spencer felt you tense and slowly pulled back, his brows furrowing slightly as he studied your face.

“What?” he asked, his expression shifting into one of confusion.

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, but nothing came out.

He tilted his head, clearly confused, before realization flickered across his face. His lips curled into the beginnings of a knowing smirk.

“Oh,” he said, drawing out the syllable.

Your face immediately burned.

Spencer’s smirk deepened. “Wait a second.” His voice took on a teasing lilt, and suddenly, you knew you were doomed.

You turned away, ready to escape the conversation entirely, but Spencer was faster. He caught your wrist with ease, gently tugging you back toward him. “Hold on, hold on,” he chuckled, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Spencer,” you warned, refusing to meet his gaze.

“What is it about me calling you angel that makes you completely malfunction?” he mused aloud, his tone far too pleased with himself.

You huffed, attempting to wriggle free, but he only pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. His lips brushed the shell of your ear as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a murmur.

“Angel.”

You swore your brain turned to static.

Spencer laughed softly as you buried your face in his chest, too flustered to function properly. “That’s cute,” he said, resting his chin atop your head. “I’m definitely calling you that more often.”

You groaned in protest, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you.

Maybe you didn’t mind so much after all.